Willow's Story: The Sapling
by MagicalLeaves
Summary: No. 3 of 4! Set in the time of The Woman Who Rides Like a Man. You might need to read the prequels to get an idea of it. Willow enters her adult years...and things begin to get interesting, not only for her but for Tortall as well...Rated T for safety
1. DISCLAIMER

**Hi all! :D**

**I'm starting out with a disclaimer thingy here :D**

**I DON'T OWN ANYTHING OF TAMORA PIERCE OR THE TORTALL WORLD. IT IS ALL HER GENIUS CREATION!**

**Except Willow. I shall happily claim that.**

**I thank you all again for your kind reviews and such.**

**I don't know what else to say, so, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!**

**Lots and Lots of Love from MagicalLeaves**


	2. About A Start

**And so starts The Woman Who Rides Like a Man. Of course, Alanna won't feature much, as she's off adventuring around with the Bazhir, though she will get mentioned quite a bit. So a lot of this is just stuff that I made up xD Anyway, a new friendship is formed...**

**I again try using the Lower City speech. Any errors in this are my own.**

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><p>The morning sun rippled through the window of the stables, warming in pleasure at the whickers and welcoming sounds the quadruped residents gave. Horse of all sizes and colours were housed there, and each was involved in the same thing: their own oats.<p>

Except one.

At the end of the aisle, a young woman stood in a stall, whispering softly to a bay mare with a white star. She was dressed in a sensible shirt and breeches, and was saddling her horse as she crooned to her, running a hand over the beast's neck

"Are ye goin' out somewhere?"

I started, turning. Stefan, the palace hostler and one of George's men, stood behind me. Having just finished distributing hay to his beloved horses, his hands were covered with strands of hay here and there.

"Oh, hi Stefan." I smiled at him, and got a shy smile in return. "I thought I would go for a ride, that's all."

The blond youth raised a brow. "Do th' others know? Or are ye goin' t' leave without their knowing?"

I smiled faintly. "Well, I was supposed to meet Jon out here, but knowing him, he's probably forgotten and sleeping off last night's party."

Running footsteps interrupted our conversation. _Or not._ I raised a brow as a black-haired youth raced into the stable, skidding to a stop in front of the stall next to mine. "You're late," I informed my brother as he bent over, panting, his hands on his knees.

"I'm sorry, okay? I-" gasp "-slept-" gasp "-in-" gasp.

"I figured," I replied, my voice _very_ dry. "How can you be tired anyway? You're a knight. You're supposed to be fit and alert, ready at a moment's notice."

"You try waking up at an ungodly hour with your head pounding like a drum. Then try to find that small bottle your sister had given you the night before-which, by the way, you can _not_ for the life of you remember where you put it-before running down here," Jon finished, getting his breath back. He turned to accept his equipment from Stefan with a grateful smile and nod.

At his words I snorted. "Well, maybe if you were smarter you wouldn't have had any need for the hangover remedy." Jon scowled, but his hands were steady as he settled his own saddle on his black stallion Darkness. "Wait until you're my age and you enjoy being the life of a good ball," he retorted.

"No thank you," I replied smoothly. "At least one of us needs to remain sober. Besides, I don't think I'd have very good control over my Gift if I chose to partake of that beverage-which, by the way, doesn't even taste remotely nice. Apple juice is much better."

Jon shook his head as we guided our horses out of the stable, nodding at Stefan on the way. "How can you be an adult, yet hate wine? I'm starting to think the Trickster God must've trapped you in a child's years."

I rolled my eyes. "I can't tell if you sound sillier when drunk, or sober. It's all the same now. Though, speaking of which, how can you be drunk and keep control of your magic? Aren't you worried you'll hurt someone?"

Jon shrugged. "I don't get _that_ drunk. Maybe a little, but nothing like Gary and Raoul."

I grimaced. "Nobody can get drunk like those two," I muttered as both of us came to a halt. Jon helped me swing onto Star, then he mounted Darkness. Together we headed off into the Royal Forest.

"So, how's Court so far? Enjoying the crowd?" my brother enquired as we made our way through the magnificent trees.

I snorted. "Not really." I looked at him suddenly. "I'm sure that two out of three nobles I've spoken to has hinted at marriage. Is that all they can think about?"

Jon chuckled. "Unfortunately, yes." He glanced at me. "They want the throne to be strong. They take strength from that." He paused, thinking. "And it's probably partly Alanna as well." When I blinked at him, he explained, "She was my squire, then a controversy. They probably expect you to be sensible and traditional. It will give them confidence." He shook his head. "Old tosspots are scared of changed."

"I don't care if they're scared of a kitten," I responded tartly, making my brother snort. "I'm _not_ getting married just because they ask me about it all the time. Though, the next person to ask will get a slap in the face."

"That's not very polite," remarked Jon gently.

"I'll make sure they ask it in an impolite way before I slap them," I responded, scowling. "They really should worry about their own lives before they start picking at mine."

"Has anybody caught your eye yet?"

I rolled my eyes. "They're all the same, Jon. All talking about how they're the strongest or richest, and promising me jewels and gold-as if I don't have any of my own! I'm a Princess of Tortall, I could probably buy a small island with the wealth I have!" I scowled plaintively at my older brother. "They all bore me. Of the boys that I truly like, two of them I'm related to, one of them is my friend and that would be uncomfortable, one is _far_ too old for me, and one…well, we've been down that path already."

Jon didn't respond to my tirade, only nodded and made noises here and there as I talked and calmed down. Finally he said, "What about Thom?"

I pulled Star to a halt, staring at him. "Are you still drunk?" I demanded.

Jon shrugged. "What do you think about him?"

"I think that he's arrogant, proud, and too big for his breeches!" Jon laughed as my voice rose. When he calmed down, he said, "I never thought Thom would be so…acidic."

"You thought he'd be like Alanna," I stated. He shrugged.

"He's nothing like Alanna," I murmured thoughtfully.

"No," agreed Jon, just as thoughtful, "he's almost her polar opposite."

"Speaking of Alanna, how are you holding up?" I asked. When Jon didn't reply, instead turning away to study the trees, I added, "I know you miss her."

"Can't hide anything from you, can I?" murmured Jon wryly. "I haven't heard from her since she left," he admitted.

"That's because she's only been gone a week. Give her some time to settle," I replied. I guided Star over to Darkness so I could place a hand on Jon's shoulder. "She'll write. You know that."

Jon sighed. "That doesn't stop me worrying."

I decided to cheer him up. "Maybe I should attend the next ball with Raoul," I mused.

Jon started. "What? Why?"

I grinned at him. "Well, he hates parties, and I hate people. I could keep him entertained, and he can keep the nobles' sons away!"

We rode the remainder of the journey in quiet companionship, chatting about this and that, just laughing. When we finally emerged from the Royal Forest, heading for the stables, I was the first to see the slender figure leaning against the wall.

I scowled. It was impossible to miss that fiery colour. Taking a deep breath, I dismounted, before leading Star inside to her stall. Jon followed, neither of us acknowledging the person who shadowed us inside.

"You know," the person spoke as I began to brush Star down, "it's kind of hard to keep an eye on you two if you go off without anybody's knowledge."

I scowled at Star's neck. "Each of us knew where the other was going," I responded, my voice even. "We can protect eachother, Lord Thom. However your concern is noted."

I felt rather than saw the Lord of Trebond shrug. "As you will."

I turned to glare at him. "Must you keep saying that?"

"Must you keep being distant with me?" Thom countered.

"I'm distant with people I don't like," I snapped. Thom raised his hands.

Taking a deep breath, I turned away, fixing my gaze on Star's neck again. Carefully I began to braid my horse's mane, more to calm myself down than anything else. I didn't realise that Jon was still watching our little exchange with interest. _Just what was it about Thom that riled me up so?_

"If ye want, Highnesses, I can take care of yon beasts."

I turned around at the voice, my gaze sliding past Thom as I did so. "Oh no thank you, Stefan, it's fine. I'm actually done. And Mother and Father taught me that it's my own responsibility to take care of you own horse." Jon nodded his agreement.

Stefan favoured me with a nod. "Responsible of ye. Much more so than tha' Master Ralon."

Jon snorted. "Ralon's no 'Master' anything." I nodded vehemently-Ralon was probably the only person I disliked more than Thom. Well, Ralon, and Roger.

Finished, I exited the stall, waving goodbye to Stefan. Jon stayed behind a while longer to chat with him, exchanging news with the man about the Lower City.

To my annoyance, the red haired man followed me. I tried to not let it show until I returned to my room. Once inside, I slammed the door shut, then realised that Thom was still standing there. I let him see my scowl as I crossed to open the door again-I was very careful about my reputation at the palace!

When I'd finally plonked myself into a chair with a sigh, I glared up at the man. "Why are you still here?" I demanded. "I'm in my room now, safe and sound. Your services are no longer required."

Thom raised a brow, taking a seat instead. "Not as polite as Alanna said you were."

"And I told you, I'm only polite to people I like," I snapped, angry. "Now go away."

The Master of the Mithran Light shrugged. "You're a bit like Alanna really. But, no, you're not safe, even in your own room."

I stared at him, then rolled my eyes. "Please, spare me. You're worried about assassins from Carthak, or a servant who'll take advantage of me? Go on, let's hear your ridiculous theory."

"Actually," the lord said, his voice mild, "you're endangering yourself." I stared at him, then gave a bark of laughter. He shook his head. "Your chair is smoking."

I cut myself off as I stared down. Sure enough, the fabric was slightly charred where I had rested my arms. "What in the name of the Goddess-"

"May I suggest that you find another outlet for your Gift? You're overflowing with magic, especially since I'm told you don't visit the infirmary as much as you should."

"Such as?" I said, my temper somewhat cooled now.

The man shrugged again. "Like sorcery?"

I rolled my eyes. "And you're going to convince the Council that I should learn magic all by yourself, are you?"

"Well, no. All I have to do is wait for you to lose your temper." The sorcerer examined his fingernails carefully. "If I'm around, that shouldn't be very long."

"You wouldn't!" I gasped. "Someone could get hurt!"

Thom's gaze lifted from his hands. "That's my point exactly. While I am capable of defending myself from anything you might accidentally do, most of the rest of them don't have that luxury."

I scowled, knowing he had a valid point. Still- "I'm not learning anything off you, Trebond."

"Why not?" He wanted to know. "I'm sure to be much better than your smiling cousin."

I winced at the mention of Roger, but ploughed on. "I know your type. You're not one to do anything unless there's something in it for you." He dipped his head in acknowledgement, and I continued. "The only thing you value is knowledge. And I have none to give you."

"That's where you're wrong," replied Thom. "You're a qualified healer."

It took me a moment to catch his drift, then I scowled even further. "No. To be a Healer you must have a heart." Part of me was shocked at my blatant rudeness, but most of me was angry. _Mithros, he is annoying! Make him go away!_

Thom startled me with a short laugh. I looked at him, and made the mistake of being caught by his gaze. I should've known better-never _ever_ let your guard down against an unknown sorcerer!

"I probably deserved that," was all the man said as he looked away, smiling ruefully. "Does everybody hate me?"

"Why shouldn't they?" I snapped.

"Good." At Thom's words, I blinked. The man explained, "I don't like people. They waffle too much. I wanted to live at Court for a while…not worry about fluffy girls or men who drop snide remarks about my sister being better than me." He rolled his eyes. "I noticed that being…like me tends to drive people away."

I tilted my head, studying Thom, truly studying him. He let me. There was a long silence before he enquired, "Enjoying the view?" He smirked when I blushed and looked down.

"See," I suddenly exclaimed, "that's why people don't like you. You're…snarky. Arrogant. Obnoxious." Switching back to our previous topic, I added, "And I'm not teaching you anything about healing."

"No matter. I've thought of other knowledge you can offer." Thom hesitated when I gave him a wary stare. "How about you teach me how to act otherwise?"

I blinked. Thom met my gaze, going for neutral. "The other reason I act like this is because…well, I don't know how to behave otherwise." His voice was calm. "Acting proud served me well in the cloisters-the Master, and Roger's spies left me alone. But now I come here. All I've managed to do is get myself a reputation as a block of ice, and still the ladies follow me." He scowled. "They won't leave me alone. That's what I want," he said, looking at me suddenly, "to be left alone. Maybe if I explained it to them, they would go away. Because this method of scowling and coldness no longer works."

I studied him again. This time he made no comment about my blatant staring. A long silence stretched between us. Finally, he asked, "Are you just going to stare?" For once, his voice wasn't mocking, but curious.

I blushed, and looked down again. "I wanted to see how long I could do that before you said something," I admitted.

I looked up again to catch the man raising a brow. To his surprise-and mine too, actually-I grinned. "You look just like Alanna," I said.

"Shouldn't I?" Thom sounded truly puzzled, so I laughed outright.

When I calmed down enough, I told him, "Fine. We have a deal. You teach me magic, and I teach you…well, how to be…nicer?" I made a face. "That sounded…"

"Bad?" supplied the man, tilting his head like a curious bird.

I considered his suggestion and nodded. "Bad."

"May I ask for a condition? I have no desire to be discovered," Thom added.

I considered it. "Fair enough. You say nothing and I will too." Something in me squalled with laughter, imagining how this would turn out-after all, this was how my friendship with Alex had started, us being alone. _Well, it was fair. He didn't want to be seen as anything other than a block of ice. And I don't want Jon knowing anyway,_ I argued back silently.

"Thank you." The man rose, startling me out of my mental conversation. I rose too, out of politeness. He bowed, offering me a hand. I shook it unsure. When he let go, he looked at me, uncertain. "That was…right…right?"

I couldn't help it-I smiled. "It was alright, Trebond."

"Wait." He snapped his fingers. "I haven't introduced myself." He thrust his hand out again. "I'm Thom, Lord of Trebond, and Master of the Mithran Light. You can just call me Thom though."

I grinned. "Don't ever do that." When he blinked at me, I explained, "Allowing yourself to become on first name basis with any lady is an open invitation." The man shuddered. "Keep it formal and it's easier to remain cool. Though, it is nice to meet you, Thom. I'm Willow of Conté, Princess of Tortall, though you may call me Willow. And, I'm the princess-you have to wait for me to speak to you. Though I only care for that in Court," I added, "I hate acting like that around friends."

"Are we friends now?" the man remarked, startled.

I blinked, taken aback by the directness. "I don't know," I replied finally, "But we're not exactly enemies."

"I guess." Thom looked unsure, then shook his head. "This already confuses me. But," he added, "it was a start."

He walked out of my room with a weary smile at me.

_Yes. Yes it was._

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><p><strong>So...an unlikely friendship to start off with...<strong>

**Did I go thrust a plot point in too soon? I'm not sure. Anyway, I hope you all liked the first chapter...more on the way! :D**

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	3. Lie to Yourself

**Like the title suggests, this is their first ever lesson...**

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><p>Thom returned after lunch, while I was in the middle of embroidery. "It's open," I called at the knock, my mind still focused on the silk thread.<p>

The man walked in, sitting down. He raised a brow at my hands. "I didn't know you did that."

I shrugged, carefully tying a knot-I could finish it later-and laying it aside. "Well, now you do."

"I mean-" Thom floundered for a moment. "I mean, it didn't seem like something you'd know. It'd be like Alanna owning ear drops."

I smiled wryly, remembering my last birthday gift to my friend. Thom blinked. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I replied, smiling still. "What can I do for you?"

Thom lifted the things he held in his hands. _Books,_ I realised. "I thought you might want to start. If you're free, that is."

I tilted my head at him. "I'm free." The words left my mouth cautiously. "What were you intending to teach me?"

"What exactly do you know?"

I shrugged. "Minor things. I can conjure fire. I can scry, though I can't control what I see. A little thread magic, but only because that was related to healing. I did a speaking spell once, in fire." I blushed. "I've thrown something when I was scared once. Bad dream," I explained when the man glanced at me. "And this morning, when I almost set fire to my chair," I added, sighing and looking at the fabric again.

Thom studied me. "So do you do meditation?

"Of course," I replied, surprised. "Every week."

Thom shook his head. "You need to do it more daily, with the strength of your Gift. How often does your brother do it?"

"I don't know. I never asked. It didn't seem important."

Thom sighed. "My point was, does it seem like he does it weekly?"

I grimaced. "No. But then he loved his magic, and sorcery."

Thom shrugged. "Meditation organises the thoughts, and clears the mind. It helps to separate emotion from magic-so when you get angry, or scared, you don't set fire to things." He raised a brow pointedly at the chair I was in.

I blushed again. "I'm not so good at it," I admitted. "It's boring, just sitting there."

"Well, you could 'just sit there' or you could wait for yourself to injure someone," replied Thom dryly.

"I know, I know! Must you always remind me?" I pushed myself off the chair, plonking myself down in a neat tailor's seat on the carpet. "It's just hard. When I try to clear my mind, I keep thinking of…well, everything." I scowled at the plush fabric.

I felt rather than saw Thom get off his chair. "Trust me, it's better to be bored than regretful. Shut your eyes. I want to see." I obeyed without challenge. He moved around a bit, then sat down next to me.

"Breathe," he ordered, inhaling. I followed suit obediently. Soon all that filled the air was slow steady breaths. If a servant had passed by, they would've seen an odd sight: two people, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

After a while I _did_ get bored. One eye cracked open. I was startled to see a light blue fire crawling over my skin, spiking and flaring here and there. As I stared, fascinated it slowly faded to nothing.

I lifted my head to find Thom watching me. I flushed, averting my eyes, knowing that I had gotten distracted yet again.

"It's a start," Thom finally said.

"Was that my Gift?" I asked, surprised.

Thom blinked. "You've never seen it before?"

"Not like that," I replied, thoughtful. "It was…interesting." It was then I realised there was a glittering circle of violet fire, drawn around us in the carpet. Curiously I reached towards it.

"It's a warding. It will stop any magic that gets away from you."

I looked up at the man's words. "Can you teach me to do that?" I finally asked.

Thom studied me, his face expressionless. "I can. But not yet." When I began to protest, he lifted a hand. "I don't want you trying to meditate by yourself, even under your own circles. I haven't yet determined whether your Gift is completely under your control. For now you'll have to meditate with another Gifted person-say the prince. Or me. I have no intentions of you burning your room down."

I sighed, knowing he was right. "But you will teach me that?"

Thom smiled absently. "You sound like Alanna when she was learning how to shoot a bow. Coram kept putting it off for days. He didn't want to teach her-she was going to be a lady. But she kept begging him, and eventually he relented." His gaze snapped back to the present. "Anyway." He stood, passing his hand over part of the line. The circle broke, the fire streaming back into his palm. I watched in open fascination, not caring that I was staring. It was _very_ interesting to me, after all.

"Does it all come back to you?" When Thom looked askance at me, I added, "After you break a circle, I mean."

"Oh." Thom blinked, then rose to sit back down on his chair. I did the same. "You said you had some knowledge of thread magic?" When I nodded, he continued on. "It's like that. When you tie a knot, say, to stop a soldier, he'll struggle, but won't be able to move. Once you release the spell, the effects are reversed, or cancelled. The man can advance again."  
>"So, if I drew a circle, I would be putting my strength into it…but if I wiped it out, it would be returned to me?" I asked, slowly.<p>

Thom nodded. "Actually, that's wasn't such a good example," he mused. "With thread magic, yes, the spell would be reversed, but you wouldn't get your strength back. It would've been used up to cast the spell and to focus. Do you understand?" When I nodded, he tilted his head sideways, thinking. "It's more like…money. He looked back at me. "If you place your money in the bank, it will be there to draw on, in times of need. And, when you go back, it can come back to you." He frowned, then shook his head. "No. That's a better explanation for power stones." He scowled, then realised I was staring at him. "What?"

I continued to stare, fascinated. For a moment, I'd glimpsed a different Thom. Not the Lord of Trebond, or the Master of the Mithran Light, but Thom, the scholar, the intelligent one. Thoughtful. It was interesting.

"What?" Thom repeated. "Am I that handsome?" His teeth showed in a grin as I blushed, averting my gaze again.

"No," I muttered. _Though his smile was nice…_

_Goddess…I was so odd!_

"What then? Is there something in my teeth?"

There _was_ a way to distract him from my discovery, which I did _not_ want to share with anyone, least of all him. "What are power stones?"

"Oh." Thom grinned. "Now, _that_ I can teach you without fear of your control." He scooped up one of the books, flipping through it, then handed it to me at a certain page. "Power stones are, like their name, used for storing power."

I looked down. "There's a whole chapter here," I said, shocked.

Thom shrugged. "Of course. Power stones are very versatile."

I snapped the book shut. "Then I'll read it later. I thought you were supposed to teach me."

Thom shrugged. "As you will." I glared at him, and he grinned, raising his hands. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"Habits can be changed," I muttered, and blinked. _Had I really said that out loud?_

Thom laughed briefly, then sobered. "So. Power stones. Well, as I said before, they're mostly used for storing power, or anchoring spells. And don't ask me what sort," he added as I opened my mouth. "There are so many things you can do with them. You're better off reading the book." He grinned when I scowled. "Where was I? Oh right. They can be used for scrying as well, and communicating, because the image is much clearer and steadier than using flames or water. But you already know about scrying. Different stones have different strengths-for example, opals are used mostly for seeing and illusion." He tilted his head, studying me thoughtfully. "You could use a power stone, actually."

I blinked. "Really?"

Thom nodded, his gaze still thoughtful. "You can store excess magic in it, for use later, when you needed it." His brow furrowed.

I rose, walking into my room. I returned a few moments later carrying my emerald globe, which I displayed to him. "Will this do?"

Thom's brows shot up. "Now, that was something I wasn't expecting. May I?" I slid the green crystal into his hands, and he turned it over, examining the multiple facets. "What did you use it for?" his voice was the one of the absent scholar again.

"Scrying," I replied.

Thom lowered the globe into my hands. "It's alright for scrying," he commented, "but opal would be better. He nodded thoughtfully. "You _could_ use this as a power stone. It's not the best thing for the job, but it will do. And, you've already used it more than once before-it will be more attuned to you. A warning though," he raised a hand, "even a stone can only take so much power. Feed it too much, and it will shatter." When I glanced at him, he said, "Explosively."

My eyes widened. "How will I know how much to give it?" I finally asked.

Thom shrugged. "That can be your homework." When I blinked at him, he explained. "Read the chapter, and learn about you stone's limits."

"You don't know," I accused him.

Thom smiled crookedly. "No. I don't. If you gave it to me for a day, I might. But the best person to find out is _you_, because you've used it the most. And now, a question for you, Princess."

I sat down, carefully cupping the stone in my hands. "What? And I don't like being called that. Willow is fine."

Thom shrugged. "As you will." He grinned at my response. _How can my glare already have no effect on him? Damn him!_ "How do I make ladies leave me alone during a ball?"

I grinned, forgetting my irritation already. "Well, the best way to do that, Thom, is to not go at all." When he scowled, I added, "Or just do a Raoul, and find some curtains to hide behind."

"That," said Thom tartly, "doesn't help one iota."

I grinned and relented. "You can't just live with it and politely leave her as soon as possible." Thom groaned. My smile widened. "Or bring a lady with you."

"Like you?" Thom shot back. "You're a lady, who, I hear, dislikes men and parties."

I grinned wider. "Why, are you asking, my lord?" I laughed when he scowled again.

"This is odd." I fell silent at Thom's words.

"What do you mean, 'odd'?" I asked, curious.

"Well, only yesterday you hated me, then treated me with a cold indifference. Now, we're sitting together, teaching eachother, and laughing. I don't think I've had this much…fun with anyone…except Alanna." He looked surprised as he said it.

I was surprised too. _When had I begun to see Lord Thom of Trebond as a…well, friend?_

_You'll be seeing him as more than that soon enough,_ said a nasty part of my mind that sounded like Delia.

I jumped. _Delia of Eldorne? How in the name of the Goddess had she gotten there?_

_This was getting _way_ too uncomfortable!_

"Is something wrong?"

Both of us looked up at the new voice. I groaned mentally. My older brother stood in the doorway. "Nothing is wrong," I said quickly. It wasn't hard to sound annoyed-I was, at myself, for getting discovered so fast. "The lord here was just speaking to me about safety."

Thom was quick to take the cue, calmly rising from his chair. "Alanna asked me to protect you two. I'm not interested in having her blade over my neck." He bowed to me. "Princess." I inclined my head, keeping my composure. Thom bowed to Jon. "Your Highness."

Then, like yesterday, he was gone.

Jon's gaze was still on the door after Thom left. At last, he turned away, throwing himself into the chair that the lord had so recently vacated. "I didn't know you were such a good actress," he commented lightly.

"What?"

"Don't be stupid. I know there's something going on between the two of you. I saw the sparks fly during your conversation yesterday in the stables."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't even like him, Jon. He's even worse than Roger."

Jon grinned. "If that's so, what are those books for?"

I turned. _Mithros and Goddess. The books._ Outwardly I scowled even deeper. "Dammit. I'm not his slave. If he wants his books back, he can come get them himself." I paused, tilting my head. "Or maybe I should just burn them. He's probably got so many that he won't miss two."

Jon shrugged, rising. "Well, be that way then. I wish you wouldn't, though."

"Wouldn't what?" I demanded, rising too.

"Lie to yourself," was Jon's parting comment as he exited my room.

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><p><strong>It takes all of a day to forge an unlikely friendship...and all of a day for Jon to notice...<strong>

**Did you like it? Please read and review! Thanks!**

**~ MagicalLeaves **


	4. Stuck in a Cage

**Oh my God. Firstly, I'm so very sorry about leaving all of you hanging for so long. Semester two at uni has started and it's a lot of work! Add to that, I've been sick twice last month...the joys of winter. Anyway. This is the next chapter, long overdue!**

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><p><strong>Some friendships come with a price...and a confusing price at that...<strong>

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><p>The single ray of light slipped in through the gap at the top of the curtain. Carefully, it looked left, then right, before gradually extending it fingers, slowly growing to reach the carpet. Slowly, it crept up, and up, over a blanket to a face.<p>

Eyes snapped open.

I stared at the ceiling. That single beam gleamed in my vision. With a grumble, I shuffled over, out of its reach, burying my face under my covers again. Even as I tried to go back to sleep, yesterday's events still rippled through my mind.

Me and a scarlet-topped man, talking. About everything and nothing. A circle in the carpet. An emerald for a power stone. Scrying. Thread magic. Meditation. Dancing at a ball. And above all of it, a conversation.

"_Well, be that way then. I wish you wouldn't, though."_

"_Wouldn't what?"_

"_Lie to yourself."_

Now I was truly awake. With a growl I threw back my covers, sitting up in bed. In minutes I was dressed, my hair brushed and pulled back in a simple braid.

As I wandered out of my room, my gaze landed on my embroidery. It was still sitting there, unfinished. With a sigh, I sat in the closest chair, reaching for it. My fingers brushed over the satiny fabric.

"_I didn't know you did that."_

"_Well, now you do."_

_I mean-it didn't seem like something you'd know. It'd be like Alanna owning eardrops."_

My hand started on the needle, and it slid into the wrong place. I glared at it. I could pull out the errant thread, or just cut it…With a sudden sigh I walked into my room, placing it on my dresser. It didn't matter-I wouldn't be able to do it on an unsettled heart.

_An unsettled heart?_ I stilled at my thoughts. Stared at the mirror. Buried my face in my hands.

_Maiden's tears. I thought that I'd loved-_ "Alex," I muttered. Alexander of Tirragen. The maths wizard with a sword. Soulful. Happy. A smile like the sun.

Then I thought of Thom. There wasn't much to compare, just that look on his face, when he sank into scholar-mode. It was thoughtful, almost passionate. I could connect with that-I'd worn that look when healing in the infirmary.

_Goddess help me. Was my heart really that fickle, falling in and out of love all the time? Or did I just admire Thom? _I was so confused.

_Befriend the friendless, Willow._

_Ugh. That didn't help at all._ "Maiden's tears, Faithful," I whispered. "Why did you tell me that?" Silence met my question. "I don't want the gods meddling in my life!"

Suddenly, I couldn't stand it. I leapt to my feet, throwing a cloak around my shoulders. _I have to get out of here._

Snatching up a piece of paper, I scribbled a brief note.

_Dear Jon._

_Gone to get some fresh air at the silver point. Sorry if I worry you._

_Willow._

I hated being so cryptic, but I hated anybody and everybody coming after me even more. The note done, I headed out, the paper clasped in my hand. I would slip it under my brother's door on the way past.

~oOo~

The day was early enough that my footsteps were the only noise in the hallway. I turned a corner, walking over to a door. Without hesitation I opened it, padding softly up the stairs. It was the time between dawn and true morning, the time when nobody but the birds were awake. The torches in the wall were long burnt out, but the magic of my Gift lit the way for me as I climbed and climbed in an endless spiral. My path finally halted at a door. Without hesitation, I let go of my magic, letting it slide back into me. Placing both hands on the door, I turned the handle, and pushed.

I was greeted by the interior stone of walls. I quietly crossed the circular room to the door. Upon opening it, I was greeted by the view that never failed to take my breath away. Walking outside under the early morning light, I leaned on the balcony of Balor's Needle, staring over the palace and Corus in the distance, over the trees and the bird song that rose into the sky with the soft early morning mist. Finally, I felt myself relax, and I turned my face up to the warmth of the sunlight and shut my eyes with a sigh of contentment.

Somebody cleared their throat behind me.

I whirled around with a gasp, and stumbled, finding myself on the ground.

A hand entered my vision as I struggled to find my feet. I looked up into sapphire eyes.

At once, all the confusing thoughts came rushing back. Quickly I turned away, instead using the balcony to pull myself upright. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?" I added quickly, trying not to let my fluster show.

"I could ask the same of you." Jon-for it was him-leaned on the balcony rail, watching me through expressionless eyes.

I sighed, this time in defeat. "I couldn't sleep."

Jon tilted his head. "What's keeping you up?" he asked, but I could see that he knew the answer.

Instead, I answered his question with a question. "Why did you say those things to me yesterday? Now everything is jumbled around in my head."

In response, Jon turned the tables back to me. "So you do admit that there's something between you two."

I scowled. "No. Yes. I don't know. Maybe I just admire him. Or maybe we're just friends. You came along and messed my head up," I accused him. It was then I realised my lips were trembling, and I turned away. _I was stronger than that!_

I felt Jon's hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd moved on from Alex. Otherwise I'd have never said anything at all."

I turned with a sigh, leaning into his hug. "I know. It doesn't make me feel any better." I suddenly looked at him. "Faithful gave me some advice before they left."

Jon raised a brow. He, too, knew that Faithful was not just an ordinary cat. "Oh? What was this advice?"

I shrugged. "Befriend the friendless."

Jon blinked, then sighed. "So that's why you're defending Lord Thom."

I scowled. "I'm not defending him. We just have…a truce."

Jon shrugged. "Alright. Why did you bring this up?"

I scowled again, but for different reasons this time. "I thought my life was my own. But the gods keep messing in it. I don't want them meddling-I can mess my life up without their help."

Jon thought over my words, and grinned. "I don't think they ever ask our opinions on this matter."

"I know," I sighed again. Pulling away, I leaned on the rail, looking out at the trees. I shut my eyes, letting my words spill free. "But I feel so…helpless. Caught in the tide. Stuck in a cage." I shivered.

Jon moved, leaning on the balcony next to me. "I'm sorry you're unhappy." His words were quiet. He slung an arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him.

We said nothing for a while, just watched the last of the early morning mist rise and dissipate in the gold sunlight. At last I sighed and stirred. "What were you doing up here, anyway?" I asked him.

Jon frowned. "I was thinking."

"Oh? About what?" I asked curiously.

"Anything. Everything." Jon suddenly turned to face me. "I woke up and suddenly realised that, one day, I'll be King."

"You're worried about the future?"

"Not really. I know that Tortall will be alright. I just can't see myself as a king." Jon sighed.

"Oh." I grinned. "It's alright Jon. You'll get there eventually."

"Jon shook his head. "I know. It just feels weird. Like, after I got my knighthood, I thought it would be easy. Bam! You're a knight. But it took a long time to sink in. Sometimes I would still look around for Father." He smiled ruefully.

I laughed. "Now, that I can understand." When Jon glanced at me, I said, "I was like that after I did my Ordeal…" my voice trailed off in memory, then I shivered. "Ugh."

Jon studied me. "It heals over time," he finally said gently.

We stood together in companionable silence before I spoke again. "We must be the two strangest heirs that Tortall has ever had," I mused thoughtfully.

Jon chuckled. "Probably," he replied. "Just look at us. I wasn't even a knight when I went to the Black City, I disobeyed the King in the Tusaine War, then everybody found out I had a girl for my squire. And you participated in that war, and helped during the Sweating Sickness, shunned the Court, and became a qualified healer. We're certainly not the traditional heirs."

I laughed with him. "No. We're not. But you know what?" When Jon glanced at me, I grinned at him. "I'm glad."

Jon grinned back, tugging my braid gently. "Me too, Will. Me too."

Footsteps sounded. The two of us exchanged glances, then turned to face the door simultaneously.

"Hello, Lord Thom," I greeted the newcomer. "Here to lecture us about disappearing again?"

The man raised a brow. "Well, I would, but on searching your brother's room I found this. It looked like it had been slipped under the door-which, by the way, was unlocked."

Jon shook his head, sighing. "I knew I forgot something."

I snatched the note off Thom, going a faint pink. "That was a private note."

Thom shrugged. "Yes, well, I wasn't about to let you two out of my sight again."

"Why are you up so early, anyway?" I demanded, glaring at him.

Thom blinked. "I was in the library."

"What? All night?" I said incredulously. It was then I realised his clothes and hair were slightly rumpled. I rolled my eyes. "Goddess, you were."

Jon shrugged. When I glanced at him, distracted, he said, "I did that too sometimes. Stayed in the library very late. Not all night, of course," he added hastily, "but long enough."

"See? I'm not the only one…" Thom finally yawned.

I rolled my eyes again. "Get some rest. Scholars," I sighed, pushing my way past him.

"Stop worrying about me, I'm fine. Healers." Thom's mumbled retort followed me through the door. I couldn't stop myself smiling.

* * *

><p><strong>Silver point = Needle. Therefore Balor's Needle xD<strong>

**Well? What do you think?**

**Hope you liked it!**

**~ MagicalLeaves **


	5. Missing Milestones

**I again try my hand at commoner speech that Coram speaks. I don't know if I've got it right though. Hopefully I have. Hopefully it's understandable too haha.**

**Arrivals and Departures...**

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><p>The notes rose in the air on wings of light. They flittered through the room gracefully, beautifully fragile. They poured out of the young ebony-haired woman, ascending to the ceiling. At last, they turned towards the window, reaching gloriously for the sunlight outside.<p>

A knock shattered the peace. The notes vanished instantly as the woman's eyes opened. Lowering her flute, she crossed to open the door. A stocky brown haired youth stood there grinning. "Hello. It's been a long time since I've heard you play like that."

"Gary!" I grinned in surprised pleasure. "What are you doing here?"

Gary entered without asking, returning my grin. "Maybe I just came to visit my favourite cousin," he replied. "Or maybe, I come bringing an old friend."

I rolled my eyes. "Nice try, Gary. Everybody knows that Jon's your favourite. And who's this old friend?" I looked at the doorway, and my mouth dropped.

"Your Highness. 'Tis a pleasure to see you again," rumbled a very familiar voice.

"Coram! How-When…" I stammered, then finally remembered to invite him in. He entered, grinning at me. Gary was also grinning-he rarely managed to make me speechless nowadays.

"Truth be told, I only got back last hour," said Coram Smythesson, Alanna's manservant, teacher, and friend, as he settled into one of the chairs.

"How have you been? How is Alanna?" I asked, smiling.

"Bah! Don' get me started!" And with that, Coram launched into a tale of how, while travelling towards Tyra, they'd encountered a Bazhir tribe and been adopted as one of their members.

"Alanna? A 'man of the tribe'?" I couldn't help it-I laughed. "Well, I'm sure that's what she was looking for!"

Gary laughed too. "She'll probably challenge the headman for his place next!" he joked.

When we'd calmed down, Coram asked after us. "And how's ye brother going? Alanna 'specially asked about him."

Both Gary and I chuckled. "He's alright. He works more and more now," I replied.

"Which reminds me," grunted Coram. He reached into his belt pouch, pulling out some folded papers. "I got letters here for the lot o' ya."

I grinned, accepting the paper he offered. "That's kind of you. Thanks Coram."

"Ye're welcome," responded the man gruffly. He rose. "I'm off to find His Highness now and deliver him my news."

"I'll come too," said Gary, rising.

"I'll be stayin' for a while, not sure how long." The man smiled at me. "You tell the others old Coram says hi."

I smiled. "Don't be silly, Coram. You're not that old. Gossip is the palace staple-our friends will probably come find you."

~oOo~

Hooves thundered down the path. "Jon! Wait!" I dug my heels into Star, urging her after my errant brother. "Jon!"

The dream vanished. My eyes flew open. The thundering continued.

Lurching off my chair, I scrambled to open the door. "I am Princess Willow of Tortall, and the Goddess help whoever dares to disturb me!" I yanked the door open, then ducked the hammering fist with a yelp.

"Oh. Sorry."

I glared up at the person. "Dammit Jon! What do you want?"

My brother raised his hands. "I said sorry."

I scowled. "For waking me up, or almost hitting me on the nose?"

"Both?" Jon went for a smile.

I sighed and let him in.

"What do you want, Jon?" I asked, not unkindly.

Jon twisted his handkerchief between his fingers. "I'm…leaving," he announced.

I stared at my brother. "What?"

Jon went red. "I received a letter from Alanna. I'm going with Coram."

"You can't just go like this-"

"I'm not going just for her." Jon met my gaze steadily. At my quizzical look, he explained, "Do you remember the man I told you about in Persopolis, Ali Mukhtab? I asked him for any written history on the Bazhir, because I was going to rule them one day, and so I wanted to learn more about them. Anyway, Coram gave me the histories. It turns out that Ali Mukhtab is staying with the Bloody Hawk tribe now. I want to go see him."

I tilted my head at Jon. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Jon shook his head.

I scowled. "Don't play with me, brother. What about Alanna?"

Jon rubbed his head. "I miss her," he finally admitted, his voice soft.

"You still love her." It was a statement, not a question, but Jon nodded anyway. "I…want to propose," he blurted.

"What? Goddess Jon!"

"I missed her. I want her to marry me, and be my queen."

"Jon, she can't marry you! She's the first lady knight in over a century! She's killed your cousin! It will destroy your rule! The nobles will never stand for it!"

"Don't!" I stopped at Jon's voice. "I love her. Isn't that enough?" His last words were pleading.

I didn't answer his question. "When do you leave?" I asked instead.

Jon flushed, averting his gaze. "Tomorrow," he mumbled. "I'll miss your birthday."

_So that's why he was so embarrassed._

I sighed. "It's alright Jon. Really."

Jon looked up. "It will be your 18th birthday though. You'll be a woman." He slumped. "I'm always missing your milestones," he muttered.

"Trust me. It will be like the other birthdays. I won't feel any older." I rose from the chair to wrap my arms around him. "Jon. Please don't be guilty. It's just the way our paths take us. And you'll be back anyway. You can wish me happy birthday then. It's no big deal."

"It is for me," my brother grumbled, but his words were half-hearted.

I sighed. "Fine. I have something to do for you then."

Jon looked up. "What?"

I smiled. "Get me a good gift while you're away."

Jon's face split in a smile. "Okay. Promise."

~oOo~

The sun rose on what was to be a beautiful day. The light spilled haphazardly over the stable. I stood off to the side, saying some final goodbyes to my brother. He grinned, swinging into the saddle. "It'll be alright. You've got the others to keep an eye on you. Especially that Thom." He leaned down to ruffle my hair. I batted him away with a scowl, knowing it would make him laugh.

"Must you keep talking about him like that?"

"Well, it's fun," he responded with a grin. "I rarely get to tease you nowadays." His face softened. "Happy early 18th."

I smiled up at him. "Thanks Jon. Bye." I slipped my hand into his.

Jon leaned down to give me as much of a hug as he could without falling off Darkness. "Bye Will."

He pulled away. I took a step back from him. "Bye Coram," I said, turning to look at the burly man.

The manservant gripped my hand for a moment. "I trust ye'll stay outta trouble, Highness," he rumbled. "Have a good celebration."

I smiled. "I will. Say hi to Alanna for me." Both Jon and Coram nodded sharply.

Then I stood and watched Coram and Jon ride off into the sunrise.

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><p><strong>Willow is alone now...how will she fare without her brother to guide her?<strong>

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	6. URGENT NOTICE

**Hey guys. I have been writing, then uni and study have kinda got the better of me.**

**And now I have another major upset to my life.**

**My USB has broken. I don't know how, or why, but it's rattling. And it no longer connects to the computer. And I haven't backed anything up, stupid person I am.**

**So I've lost all my fanfiction, uni lecture stuff I recorded, and planning for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, anybody else doing it?), which is a major blow to the gut.**

**I don't know if I'll be able to get it fixed...and I don't know what I'm going to do...everything was there...**

**So, until I get back to you, all my stories are going on hold. I'm really sorry. I'll try continue writing even if I don't recover everything...but it still sucks.**

**~ MagicalLeaves**

* * *

><p><strong>Update 13 Dec 2011<strong>

**I did not manage to get my USB fixed. All the places I've been looking are way too expensive for a uni student like me. So it's broken...all my stuff is gone.**

**That being said, I hate leaving things unfinished, so I've decided to soldier on and resume my fanfictions from scratch. Sorry for making you wait so long. Hopefully I can turn out some good writing.**

**Thanks again for you patience and such.**

**I don't know when the next chapter will come, what with Christmas holidays with family, then New Years. And summer school starts on Jan 3 or 4 so...I'll see how it goes. But I do intend to finish my fanfics! So I will...eventually. :)**

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	7. How to make Willow puke

**OMFG LOOK. I wrote this while lazing on the beach on my holiday last week. Now that I'm back, the first thing I did was upload it for all you lovely readers. :****D  
><strong>**Thank you for bearing with me with patience and the like! I hope you like this! There is another chapter coming soon - this one wasn't all I wrote! - so stay tuned!**

**Out of the frying pan, and into the fire, I think describes the situation Willow is about to get into...**

* * *

><p>Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.<p>

The light breathing spun through the room, its regularity slipping through the tendrils of sunlight easily. Inhale, exhale.

A glossy sheen shone in the centre of the of the room. Its source was a pair of young adults, one woman, one man. Inhale, exhale.

"That is hardly the proper position for the Crown Princess."

At the voice, the man looked up, his eyes opening to reveal a blazing purple fire. The red-headed man looked over the newcomer leaning on the doorframe, one of his brows lifting briefly before dropping again. "Perhaps not," he finally replied, his voice calm and quiet, fitting in easily with the scene, "but it is the proper position for a mage-in-training, which her Highness is."

The other man snorted lightly, his muddy brown eyes scornful. "And you would know, I presume, Master Thom?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Thom did not rise to the other man's jibe. Instead he pressed his forefinger to his own lips. "_Never_ interrupt a mage, especially one who is still in training. Her Highness has not the level of control possessed by masters. Startling her could prove disastrous."

Through all this the woman had not stirred from her neat tailor's seat on the carpet. Her's was the soft and steady breathing, and the clam rise and fall of her chest. It was as if she could sit through a storm like that,. Her position looked so untouched. Thom reached over to carefully lay a hand on her arm. "Your Highness," he said in that same soft tone. "You have obligations."

The woman stirred as if from a deep sleep, her eyelids flickering but not opening. Thom sighed and moved her arm gently. "Your Highness? It seems to be rather important."

This time her eyes opened, revealing sapphire orbs under elegant dark brows. The woman glanced at the Lord of Trebond, who nodded towards the doorway.

"Your Royal Highness."

I looked at the doorway, the groaned mentally. I let none of my irritation show on my face – my expression was the closed politeness of a noble courtesan, achieved through years of practice and discipline over my emotions. Taking a deep breath that did nothing to drown my slight annoyance, I addressed the nobleman currently bowing deeply to me in the doorway. "How may I be of service, my lord?"

The man rose from his deep bow, casting his gaze to the floor where I sat. "Forgive me, but that does not seem the proper place for the Crown Princess," he remarked, nodding at my position.

I had risen to a kneeling position before remembering the purple dome glittering above my head. I glanced at Thom, and he, coming to the same conclusion, reached out and rubbed a hand over a portion of the circle, reclaiming his magic. Only when he nodded to me did I rise to my feet and step forward to answer the man's words. "I have the Gift, and so must learn control. This is but a way of learning control."

"Surely one of the university masters can teach you," the man answered.

I gritted my teeth but my words and tone were as polite as ever when I answered. "My lord Everett, the university masters have their own many students to tutor. Lord Thom, I believe, is a Master of the Mithran Light, and is suitably equipped to teach me. I see no reason to be an inconvenience to a university master when Lord Thom is available to teach what they teach."

The man inclined his head. Whether it was in acknowledgement of my words or just a polite response due to our respective stations I couldn't tell, though I was betting on the latter. Everett of Stone Mountain, second son of the very old and thus very powerful Stone Mountain family, was well versed in the manner of how to curry favour at court. The pale-blond, blue-eyed man had quickly worked his way up the ranks of nobles at court in the few days since his introduction - which, like all Stone Mountain business, had been a showy affair - and now he considered himself in a good enough position to go after the biggest fish in the sea - me. To say it was annoying was the understatement of my life. I'd seen the way he treated most noblewomen at court, and was displeased with his behaviour, to say the least.

"I came to request but a moment of your time, Your Highness," Everett said.

"You have it," I replied patiently.

The man's eyes flickered over to Thom. "Privately, if possible."

I let out a breath. In a lesser person, you might've called it a sigh. "I must decline, my lord. As you can see, I was in the middle of my lesson when you interrupted us. If you wish to speak to me privately, you will have to wait."

Everett of Stone Mountain swept me another deep bow. "Then I shall see you when you conclude your lesson, Your Highness." He gave Thom the perfunctory lesser bow, then swept away before I had a chance to reply.

"Coward," Thom said when the man was out of earshot. "You just didn't want to talk to him."

"Of course I don't want to talk to him," I retorted, resuming my position on the carpet. "Did you see the way he announced himself? 'I shall see you when you conclude your lesson'," I mimicked. "He didn't even give me a moment to reply. The arrogance of him makes me want to puke."

Thom tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "What?" I demanded.

He shook his head. "Nothing." His raised hand forestalled any of my further questions. "We must resume your lesson, Your Highness."

I scowled. I had recently asked Thom to stop addressing me as such in private, but old habits were hard to break. I plonked down on the carpet, taking several deep breaths. Pushing away my annoyance, I shut my eyes and breathed.

* * *

><p>Today's bell was accompanied by my groan. My eyes popped open, and I shifted carefully, rolling my stiff neck on my shoulders. Carefully I rubbed the pins and needles from my legs, then made to stand.<p>

"Ouch!" Rubbing my head, I glared up at the purple dome.

"You should do well to remember that is there,": Thom pointed out, a sparkle in his eye - it wasn't the first time I had done that, and it probably wouldn't be the last."Otherwise you're going to have a bald spot right there, and that's definitely not attractive in any lady, least of all you.

I stared at him, but couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Eventually I gave up as he reached over to reclaim his magic. I stood, this time without incident, gingerly stretching out the kinks from my back. With a sigh I looked back at Thom as he rose to his feet. "You're improving," he remarked. At my inquiring look he explained, "You've been drawing your Gift towards you, and inside of you, getting a better grip on it."

"Doesn't that just add power, which makes control all the more difficult?" I asked.

"Good question," Thom replied approvingly. "The answer to the first part is yes. The answer to the second part is no, as this is the type of power which builds up with control, not the uncontrolled sort which builds up over time. The type of strength you're gathering will prove beneficial in terms of control in the long run."

Somebody cleared his throat. Both Thom and I looked over, and I groaned internally again.

"Your Highness, I have returned as promised," Everett announced, bowing deeply once again. _I _can_ see that,_ I thought dryly as he added, "Lord Thom," and bowed towards the man next to me. Lord Thom bowed back, but Everett had already turned back to me. It was a subtle but definite snub. That the young man had done so told me much about the man's belief in his standing in court that let him believe he could act so to the Lord of the very old and thus very powerful Trebond family, who was also a powerful sorcerer. However, from the curling of his lip, I gathered that Thom didn't really care much for what Everett of Stone Mountain thought of him.

I mentally rolled my eyes. "How may I be of service, my lord Everett?" I asked, silently thanking the years that had allowed me to build up the control not to call him - Everett, not Thom - an idiot and dismiss him from my presence. _Goddess, the arrogance of this man know no bounds?_

"It is I, in fact, who may be of service to you, Your Royal Highness," the man replied. "I understand that you are without an escort for this coming ball."

I cursed inwardly. Normally I would've gotten Gary, Alex, or Raoul to accompany me, but this time Gary was going with Lady Cythera, Raoul was on duty in Persopolis, and Alex was escorting his sister Amelys, who had been previously introduced t o the court but would be attending her first ball that night. Everett had caught me out. _Great. The one time that Jon, who would've been happy to go with me, wasn't here, and I get saddled with this Stone Mountain stiff-rump._ The thoughts were bitter in my mind, but I knew I only had myself to blame, as I had been putting off asking anyone myself. Steeling myself, I opened my mouth to face the music.

"I must interrupt the two of you to informed the young Master Everett that you are in fact misinformed." Thom's voice cut through the pair of us. I glanced at him as he moved forward to stand next to me. "The princess is indeed spoken for." His voice made it _very_ clear who had done the speaking for me.

I saw the flicker of surprise on Everett's face and was grateful that I had managed to hide my own. No way did I want Everett to call Thom's bluff!

"You-You're going with him?" Everett spluttered.

Thom raised a brow. "That's Thom, Lord of Trebond, and Master of the Mithran Light, to you, Everett of Stone Mountain. I am not just a 'him'. And, as her tutor in the management of her Gift, I deemed it necessary to keep an eye on her in case she loses control." Thom studied the gaping man, then added, "I can assure you that she has enough power in her to bring down a chandelier in the ballroom, and she herself has no desire to injure any partygoers."

"Well," Everett finally managed weakly, "if that is Her Highness' wish."

"It _is_ my wish," I cut in, finally getting over my own internal astonishment. "I have no desire to hurt anyone on that night. I do apologise for the inconvenience I have caused you, Everett."

The man nodded, regaining his composure. "There is no inconvenience, I assure you," he replied. "The safety of all is far more important than the desires of one."

The way he bowed his head, his eyes still on me, and the way he uttered those words, left no doubt in my mind just whose desires he was talking about. I repressed a shudder of repulsion and managed a polite smile, swallowing back the rising bile.

After more bowing and scraping Everett of Stone Mountain finally took his leave. The moment he was out of earshot Thom glanced at me. "I apologise for cutting you off. I know you dislike it when people take charge of you as if you're an object."

I sat down on a chair. "Just this once, I'll forgive you," I replied, half-teasing. "It is a fair price to pay to not be escorted by him."

Thom raised a brow. "You do not mind when I speak of you as if you're not there, yet you do when he does it? Why would that be?"

"It would be because Everett of Stone Mountain has no brains," I snapped, startling a laugh out of Thom. "Besides, you, unlike other court nobles, treat me as if I have my own. I'm not a brainless wench. I'm the Crown Princess of Tortall, and a qualified healer to boot. I was in the Tusaine War! Mithros' spear, I even underwent the Ordeal of Healing from that horrendous Chamber. Surely that counts for something." Scowling and rolling my eyes, I laced my fingers together. "I'll have to tell gary and Alex about this," I muttered.

"Will he mind?" Thom asked suddenly.

"Gary? No. He'll think it's a wonderful joke." I replied absently.

"You know I wasn't talking about Gary," Thom replied quietly.

I glanced up, well and truly startled. Thom was close enough to me to know about my past romance with Alex, even if he wasn't as close as Alanna or Raoul. "I don't think so," I replied slowly. "Why are you worried? It's not like there's really anything. Just a favour as friends."

"Of course," replied Thom, dipping his head. "I was just concerned that Alex might see it as something else."

"Besides," I continued, "Alex has escorted other ladies to other balls. I think we've both moved on."

And as those words left my mouth, I prayed to Mithros, the Goddess, and anyone who was listening that I wouldn't have to eat them later. Except the Trickster. Because, let's face it, he would probably make sure I did the opposite.

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><p><strong>And there you have it. One of my longer chapters. Hope you like it!<strong>

**Love MagicalLeaves**


	8. All Friends are Advisors

**So yeah, here's the next chapter. Hope you like it. I had a hard time writing it in terms of what actually happened, but this is how it has to go.**

**Time to say goodbye...**

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><p>The woman's footsteps padded down the hall noiselessly. The sunlight through the windows scattered carelessly throughout the hallway, as chaotic as the thoughts spilling through the woman's head and as carefree as the smile on her face.<p>

I slowed to savour the afternoon sun pouring all around as I walked down the hall. As predicted, Gary had thought my predicament a wonderful joke. I had no doubt that he would remember this for a bedtime tale for whenever he got to see any children I might have. Snorting softly to myself, I silently vowed that I would _never_ leave my cousin alone with said children. As my mind bubbled and churned happily, my feet took me down the corridor, up some stairs, and to a door down another long hallway. Studying the wooden surface with a beating half and nervous anticipation, I knocked.

There was the sound of footsteps before the door opened. Clear grey eyes met my own blue ones, lighting up with sudden delight.

"Willow!" Alex exclaimed, surprised and clearly pleased with my presence. "Please, come in!" he added, opening the door wider.

I followed him inside, returning his smile briefly before sitting down in one of the chairs. Alex took another chair, reaching for a tray that was on the table. "I was just about to take a break," he said. "Would you like a drink? I can send for another cup."

I didn't reply, instead producing a handkerchief and fiddling absently with it as I gazed down at the light cloth.

Gentle hands took the fabric square from my grasp. "You can't tell me what's troubling you if you stare and mumble at that, you know," Alex said gently. He studied me carefully. "Is that why you came to see me? Is there something wrong?"

"I have an escort for the coming ball," I finally said.

Though I wasn't looking at him, I sensed Alex's interest keenly. "Oh? Is it Everett of Stone Mountain?" I heard the laughter in his voice - my dislike for the man was legendary among my close friends.

"Actually, it's Lord Thom of Trebond," I mumbled, not meeting my dearest friend's eyes.

My words were met with a long silence. Finally, unable to stand it, I looked up at him. "Say something," I said pleadingly.

"That's an interesting choice," Alex finally managed.

"It's not…I mean…Gods curse it all," I snapped, irritated at my fumbling. "Everett cornered me earlier today. Thom just stepped in, that's all. As a friend."

"As a friend," Alex repeated, expressionless.

"Yes," I repeated, firmer now. "He - Thom - spoke up for me, as a friend, to get rid of Everett. That's all! And I don't know why I'm even defending myself to you!" I looked back down, wondering why I was on the verge of tears. Surely I was too old to cry at the drop of a hat?

"Because you're a good person who hates hurting and hiding things from your friends." I sensed rather than saw Alex get up from his chair. He knelt in front of me at eye-level, taking my hand. "Thank you for telling me. I don't think that many of my friends have your courage."

"Your words would shame a lot of your friends then," I muttered, looking away and blinking rapidly. I would _not_ cry. "I'm just a lady."

Alex squeezed my hand. "Do not believe anything that others may think or dare to say of you. You are _not_ just a princess, or a lady. You are a qualified healer. You underwent the Ordeal. You are a participant in the Tusaine War. I don't think many ladies can attest to that, Willow."

I met his eyes and smiled weakly at him. "That's because not many ladies had the insanity to attempt the Ordeal, much less take part in the Tusaine War."

"They didn't have the courage, nor the sense of duty to do something for their people," Alex corrected firmly. "The qualities you possess make you as rare as a black opal in Tortall's slowly draining mines. And I'm not just talking about the crown on your head."

A long silence stretched out between us. It was I who broke it, coughing and looking away again awkwardly. "I thought…this…well…that it would get easier with time." I murmured.

"Me too." Alex admitted, dropping my hand. "And it has. But only a little."

"Only a little," I agreed, as I leaned back in my chair and watched Alex retake his own seat.

"You can't run from Everett forever, you know," he said when he'd sat back down. "Or the rest of the young noblemen, for that matter," he added as an afterthought.

"I know. Don't you think I know that?" I sighed. "What do you suggest I do? Facing them head on only encourages them. I confess that I'm glad for my upcoming party - that night's ball will only be for a select few." I had been able to whittle down the guest list to my close friends and family, plus a few nobles that I could tolerate. The elaborate celebratory ball for the whole court would be held the night after.

Alex shrugged. "Well, I'm sure we'll be happy to all attend to you during the court ball. It is what friends are for. Apart from that…" he shrugged again. "You'll be 18. You'll be coming of age. Every eligible bachelor, young and old, will be after you, if they aren't already. You're going to have admit defeat sooner or later."

"Preferably sooner, and with someone I like," I grumbled in reply.

"Then I recommend you start looking," Alex suggested, "because these noblemen won't wait for you."

"I wish it was you," I blurted out, then looked down, going pink. I was already wishing I hadn't said it.

There was a very long silence before Alex finally spoke. "Do you? For what reasons?"

I looked up at him. His smile was sweet but sad. "You wish it was me only because I am safe. Because you fear looking for others in case you fail to find them. You fear finding out they are all the same, and will treat you only for the crown on your head. So you cling to the one person you know who is different, that you know will see you for you. Me."

"Gods all curse you," I muttered, closing my eyes. He was right.

"It wouldn't work, and you know it," Alex said softly. "Don't taint what we've already got."

I didn't reply for a long moment. Finally I opened my eyes to glare at him. "How do you know you're not just saying what I want to hear?" I demanded, half-joking.

Alex smiled slightly. "Because it isn't what you want to hear, but what you need to hear. It is what I suspect you know, deep down inside."

I sighed, leaning back in the chair. "You can't blame me for trying."

Alex finally grinned properly. I couldn't help smiling in return. "No, I can't," he replied, "but I can tell you, as one friend to another, that that was a terrible attempt."

I couldn't help it - I threw my cushion at him. He caught it, laughing. "Well, oh wise teacher, how can I even begin to start this, looking, you call it?" I asked him mockingly.

The amusement faded from his eyes and part of me mourned the loss. "I don't know," he replied honestly, "but you have to try. Because if you don't, then you've failed already."

I studied him for a long moment, knowing he was right again. "If I'm ever queen, I want you as an advisor," I finally said softly, knowing that even as the words left my lips they were true.

"I believe the title is actually 'friend'," Alex said in answer, "and I already have the honour of that title." He bowed to me from where he was sitting, his expression sincere.

"You do indeed," I replied, my voice still soft, smiling at him.

"And it is and always will be my pleasure," alex responded, smiling back. I rose to embrace him, then took my leave.

Outside, I waited until I had left his quarters far far behind before I leaned against a wall and closed my eyes. Part of me grieved the loss of what we had had, but deep down I knew that our friendship would be far better in the long term. Taking deep breaths and releasing them slowly, much in the manner of my meditation lessons with Thom, I swiped my eyes one final time. Then, turning, I walked away.

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><p><strong>Also, when rechecking the timeline I was using I realised that Willow (according to said timeline) is supposed to be 19 and not 18. But that wouldn't really fit my story, so I'm tweaking that part. Sorry about that. Everything else should/ be correct, and I apologise for any other mistakes I've made.**

**Also, that line about how you fail by default if you don't try? I nicked that from J.K. Rowling and mangled it for my purposes. I wish that wisdom was mine. But it isn't, and life isn't perfect.**

**Hope you liked this, next chapter out ASAP!**

**Love MagicalLeaves**


	9. Forgetting One's Place

**I wanted to upload this the other night with the previous chapter...but then partway through typing it up (because I write it on paper then type it up) I realised it was only half-finished. Hence this took me a few more days. Personally, I think the ending is a bit weak, but I did my best :)**

**Hope you all like it!**

**Willow gets to tell someone off...twice...Yay, finally I get to let her loose a bit. :)**

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><p>The light jumped everywhere, moving from the spelled globes to the elaborate chandeliers, then dancing over the glittering throng of noble courtiers. It darted through the room like a little child playing hide-and-seek before making its way over to a knot of young nobles on the dais. Sighing, a woman that was seated on the second highest step of the dais looked over the crowd. A silver circlet adorned her brow and she was dressed in a dark sapphire gown embroidered with gold thread. The colour matched her eyes nicely, but the eyes themselves were bored as they flittered restlessly over the clamouring crowd. Turning, she inclined her head to listen to a brown-haired youth.<p>

I smiled at Gary's joke, folding my hands on my lap for what seemed to be the millionth time. My cousin eyed me for a moment. "I'm fine. Really, I am," I said, before he could open his mouth. "Though what I wouldn't give to be out of this position," I added, glancing at the chair I sat in. I normally had my own chair, but tonight it sat to my left, empty - as it had ever since Jon had left the palace. While he was away with the Bazhir, I was heir until he returned. So far it wasn't a position I enjoyed - the constant fluttering about of both nobles and servants alike was a situation that had tested my patience in even the best of times.

After another long moment of just sitting there and staring out at the glittering throng, I groaned and finally rose from my seat. "I may as well get this over with," I muttered, holding my arm out.

I heard an almost inaudible snort as a hand took my proffered arm. "My sister once said that if you keep making a sour face it will stick permanently," Thom murmured, his lips barely moving.

"Like it has stuck to you?" I answered lightly, provoking a slight smile.

"Actually," he answered, nodding across the room, "I as talking about that young man over there."

I followed his gaze to the person in question, Everett of Stone Mountain. The man sat there, obviously alone, scowling at nothing and everything. I let out a snort that would have been inelegant had it been any louder. "I don't think he knows that he's fighting a losing battle," I remarked in contempt as Thom led me to the floor. The musicians, I could hear, were busy fiddling with their instruments on the side.

"It's not a lost battle to him, but a battle he's yet to win," Thom replied as we took our positions o, him placing the customary arm around my waist while I placed my hand on his shoulder.

"I wish he'd just come to his senses and just give up already," I grumbled, keeping the annoyance from my face and my feet in time as Thom twirled me around gracefully. "Though why I would say that when he has no senses at all to speak of…"

Thom had opened his mouth to respond to my comment when an odd look crossed his face. He tilted his head, seeming to consider something. "You're good at controlling your emotions, but not so when it comes to your Gift," he finally said.

I followed his gaze to our joined hands. Sure enough, a light blue fire crawled over our fingers, faint enough that only those close enough to us could see it. Now that I knew it was there, I was aware of the sensation that comes with using my Gift.

"Goddess above, grant me patience," I sighed. As we spun around again I breathed deeply, falling into the rhythm normally used for our meditations. All too soon the blue fire had faded and I was left with nothing but a sense of profound embarrassment

"You're not causing me discomfort of any kind, let me assure you," Thom said, seeing the question in my eyes. "I'm a Master of the Mithran Light. I can surely handle a little runaway power."

"For your own sake I hope you're telling the truth," I replied. "It won't be the last time I lose my grip."

The music finished and we stepped back from eachother. "I solemnly swear that I can handle any runaway power of the type you just threw my way," Thom said, his gaze and tone completely serious.

_The type? What does he mean, to phrase it like that? Does he mean that he couldn't handle all the power I had?_ The thought was unnerving, both for his sake and my own. _If he couldn't fully contain me then who could?_

_Stop it!_ scolded another part of me. _Of course he can contain you runaway magic. He just meant that there are many types of power one can display when they lose control._

"Your Highness, my lord, may I cut in?"

The familiar voice slid through my thoughts like ooze to my ears, cutting through my inner musings. A tight hand clamped down on my arm.

Everett of Stone Mountain pulled me away from Thom as the musicians struck up another song. Annoyance flared deep down. _Trust Master Stiff-Rump to ruin any fun I might've been having._

"No," I snapped, finally managing to find my voice. "No, you may not."

To my amazement and fury, Everett ignored me, even though from the expressions of the some of other dancing nobles I could tell I'd made my feelings quite clear. Instead, he merely spun me around, his hand tight on my arm. I knew I would find a bruise there the following morning - bruising was one of the things I'd learnt about while training as a healer.

_That. Was. It._

"Let me go. _Now!_"

The music died instantly, as did the chatter. Nobles and servants alike swivelled to stare. On any other day I might've been embarrassed by all the attention. Tonight I was too angry to care.

"Your Highness, you cannot interrupt a dance," said Everett in what he obviously thought was a soothing tone. He just came off as oozing again.

"_How. Dare. You._" I was trembling with rage. "Are you a member of the ruling family? Do you sport a crown on your head?"

When he shook his head in obvious confusion - finally, some real emotion for once! - I ploughed on. "You lay claim to neither? I thought as much. And since you do not go through the monthly bleeding cycle, then I can safely assume you are not a woman either. So, how _dare_ you presume to tell me what place a princess and lady has. How _dare_ you interrupt the conversation I was having for your own selfish needs. How _dare_ you think you can manhandle me, or any lady, so as to leave a bruise. Your arrogance and selfishness spells the end of my night of fun."

Everett's mouth was opening and closing. He reminded me of one of the many freshly caught fish I'd seen on the docks during one of my many explorations around Corus.

Ignoring his stupid expression, I wrenched my arm free from his now-slack grip, then strode towards Thom. Seeing the look on my face, he wordlessly offered me his arm. I took it and together we walked away, pausing only at once for me to speak to the herald in clipped tones. As I straightened and we continued our exit, the herald rapped his staff sharply on the floor and proclaimed, "Her Highness will retire for the night. She bids you to do as you will with her departure."

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><p>Thom escorted me to my room. The short journey was made in silence. It was only when we reached the door to my quarters that he spoke. "You must've been angry, to go through all the proper channels and address everybody via the herald."<p>

"What ever makes you think that, Lord Thom?" I snapped. Instantly I was ashamed of myself. "I'm sorry."

Thom shrugged elegantly. "Think nothing of it. You have the right to be worked up about this. On a side note," he added, "it was rather enjoyable to witness the dressing-down young Master Everett received."

I smiled briefly before taking my hand off his arm. "Good night Thom. Thank you for the escort."

"Are you also going to tell me how much you enjoyed it?" Thom asked dryly. "Even I could see you were bored."

"Actually," I drawled, my voice equally dry, "I was going to say that you made the night bearable."

Thom swept me a deep bow, his expression mocking. "Then I claim that all parties are satisfied with this night. Of course, there is the exception of Everett's party of one, but nobody cares much for him anyway. Good night, Willow." He turned and glided down the hall before I could think of a suitable reply.

Shaking my head and snorting lightly, I let myself into my sitting room crossing it to head straight for my bedroom. I was still going through my preparations for bed when somebody rapped on me bedroom door. "Your Highness?"

Only a few people had access to my quarters at thin hour, and of them only one had that voice. Clad in my nightgown and my hair unpinned and hanging free, I crossed the room and opened the door to let in Lyssa, my personal maid. She was the only servant I'd gotten after my flat-out refusal to a gaggle of servants. "What is it?" I asked her politely, smiling - over the years we'd built up an amiable mistress-servant friendship.

"There's a man at the door. Says he won't go away until you have speech with him, mistress," replied Lyssa, curtsying.

I didn't need the Gift to tell me who it was. I sighed in annoyance. "Please pass on to Everett of Stone Mountain that he is unwelcome at this ungodly hour," I told Lyssa, the smile long gone from both my face and my tone. "Actually," I added, as the thought occurred to me, "please tell him that he is unwelcome at any and every hour of day, night, and anything and everything in between."

"Man trouble, my lady?"

"Boy trouble, actually," I replied, emphasising the 'boy'. Lyssa merely nodded, her expression knowing - Everett had made quite a reputation for himself in the time he'd been here - and left my bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I don't know how long I stood there, waiting for Lyssa to return and tell me the moron had left, before I became aware of a raised voice issuing outside. I raised a brow - Everett was being _very_ loud in the hallway if I could hear him from here. Shaking my head at his idiocy I debated whether it was worth me going out to tell him to shut up and beat it - in those exact terms.

The gasp and the thud decided it for me. I strode to the door, flinging it open, knowing I would _not_ like what I would find on the other side.

"Do you know who I am?" Everett was shouting as her glared at my fallen maid. "I am Everett of Stone Mountain. I can and will see her. No lowly maid will order me about!"

"Not even the personal maid of the heir apparent, Her Royal Highness Princess Willow of Conté?" My voice rang through my sitting room.

Everett's head whipped around. I moved to place myself between Lyssa and this idiot boy who _dared_ call himself a man.

"Your Highness - " Everett began.

"You think that, after the way you treated me at the ball, that you can just barge in and see me whenever you please?"

Everett opened his mouth but i cut him off again. "What right have you to assault a woman, any woman, be her maid or lady."

"Your Highness, if you would let me speak then you would hear my sincerest apologies - "

"They are as sincere as the way you treated Lyssa," I replied, my voice icy.

For a long moment there was no noise, save the breathing of the three of us in the room. Finally I spoke. "Get out. Don't come back again. Ever."

Everett cast me one final look, his mouth still half open. At last he swung around and left my room.

I crossed the room to shut and lock the door behind him, then turned to offer a hand to Lyssa. "From now on, the only people allowed to see me here are will be my parents, my brother Prince Jonathan, Sir Gary, Sir Raoul, Sir Alexander, Sir Alanna, Lady Amelys, Lord Thom, and Sir Myles. Any other suitors will _not_ be allowed access to my quarters. If anybody else dares touch you then I will see Father myself. Alright?" I said as i helped her up.

"none of the others do it, my lady," Lyssa replied, still sounding slightly shaken. "It is only him."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "Will you be alright for the remaindeer of the night?" i asked her.

Her answering smile was wan. "I should think so, my lady."

"Then you may go. I dismiss you for the night. I can take care of myself, and you should too," I replied. I paused then to look her over, then touched a finger to her wrist. A light blue spark danced over the bruise that was forming. That Everett was going to pay for the injury towards my personal maid.

Lyssa watched as her bruise faded, her gaze startled. "I have no doubt that you'll need that wrist for tomorrow," I remarked, smiling.

She reached to grasp my hands in her own. "Goddess bless you each and every day, Your highness," she whispered. "I'm truly fortunate to be your maid."

And with that quiet but fierce declaration she bustled out of the room, wiping tears, and leaving me completely floored.

While I did go to bed afterwards, I did not sleep. My mind kept me awake for what seemed like hours, jumping this way and that. At last, head-deep in thoughts that were too jumbled for me to keep track of, I finally slipped off into Ganiel's world without even noticing.

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><p><strong>Muahaha. Stupid Everett is stupid.<strong>

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**Love MagicalLeaves**


	10. Copperglow

**So I know I haven't been on recently. I went through Summer School, which was a waste of time seeing as the paper I took I barely passed, which depressed me because I worked so hard. Then uni has just started so that's work in itself. Anyway, here's another chapter. Not really sure what else I have to say, so sit back and enjoy :)**

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><p>It was soothing, needlepoint. All I had to do was sit there and make sure the needle went the through the right place. It was nice, to see a pattern slowly forming underneath my careful fingers.<p>

Best of all, it gave me an excuse to hide from everyone. I knew that I was a coward, but after my latest encounter with a certain man of Stone Mountain I had no desire to jump back into the shark-infested waters that was the Court and swim with said sharks. Hence me, sitting in my room, the sun in my hair, my fingers busy with a needle and thread.

A knock startled me out of the quiet space I had reached. I looked up as Lyssa crossed to open the door slightly, speaking through the crack to whoever was on the other side. At last she closed the door and looked over at me.  
>I completed a difficult stitch before looking up. "Yes Lyssa?"<p>

"It's a man from the stables. Says he would speak to you, Your Highness," she replied, dropping a quick curtsy.

Now curious, I set my things aside and roe, crossing to answer the door. What I saw surprised me.

"Stefan, hello."

The young man smiled and bowed to me shyly. I returned the smile, saying, "What can I do for you?"  
>"Tis a message for you, Highness," Stefan replied, not meeting my eyes – Stefan was more comfortable around his horses than people, and rarely left the stables to venture into the castle hence my surprise. "I was to give it to you right away."<p>

I looked at the proffered envelope. It was a blank white, dusty and travel-worn.  
><em>Messenger birds,<em> I thought. _There's only one person who would send me correspondence via this method._ "Why, thank you Stefan," I said aloud, taking it from him. "Pass my thanks onto the courier."

"I will milady," he replied softly, looking at me for the first time. There was an almost imperceptible glint in his eye – he knew exactly who I was referring to.

Normally, I would've tipped any message runner who came my way, but Stefan wouldn't accept anything of the sort. Then again, considering he practically lived in the stables, he had no need for money anyway. Instead, he said I repaid him often enough by visiting Star and spending time with her. As I thought about my horse I felt a small pang – Star was getting old and my father had been making noises about getting a replacement. I was still looking at the ones that came through the palace, but the only real person I trusted for help and good horseflesh was George – he was quick to the point, and didn't bother with the pleasantries associated with conversing with royalty. It was probably because he was royalty himself – at least in the Lower City of Corus.

I shook myself out of my contemplation and looked back at Stefan. "Has any new stock come in?"

Stefan met my gaze again. "On that matter, yes, Highness," he replied, his face lighting up a little – if you wanted to find the man behind the shyness all you had to do was mention horses. "That's also why I was comin' up to see yon. T'would be good if you would see them."

I nodded. "That would be excellent. May I come down now?"

Stefan nodded, his expression brightening further. I smiled. "Give me a moment to be prepared, and then I shall accompany you to the stables."

A quick dash to my room resulted in me emerging, clad in a shirt and breeches that were worn and aged from use, something that a noble like Delia would never be caught dead in. I paused to leave a message with the Lyssa, asking her to only say that I was out and make no mention of my whereabouts. That errand done, I happily followed Stefan down the hall.

Once at the stables, I met the owner of the horses, and the reason for my anticipation: the one and only George Cooper. The man slid his hood back from his head as Stefan and I approached. Stefan only nodded at George before disappearing into the stables. I stopped in front of the Rogue, smiling. "Now, Master Horseman, I hear you've got new stock."

"Your ears would be correct, Your Highness," George answered, his eyes twinkling. "I have a few who may be suitable for you." Smiling politely he led me into the stables.

Once inside I turned to face him. "Isn't this a bit risky?" I asked, keeping my voice down – though I didn't really need to, considering there was only us two, and Stefan here, and Stefan was George's man.

George shrugged. "Maybe, but the safety of a friend is worth more than any risk."

I sighed in surrender. I knew he would've said something like that – all my friends, and Jon also, were pretty much the same in that respect.

George changed subjects pretty quickly, sweeping an arm to encompass the horses he had brought. "Now, if we can get onto business."

I followed his arm, and blinked. Only two horses stood before me, in opposite stalls. "I would've had more, but a few were bought, and another is being looked at," George explained apologetically.

"Oh," I replied absently as I turned my attention to the first one. It was a grey stallion. I turned to glare at George. Is this some sort of joke? You want me to ride a stallion? Goddess, I'm not stupid!"

George grinned. "Actually, that one hasn't been bought yet, so I brought him up to the palace to see if the King's Own was interested." His eyes twinkled. "I was meaning this one." Taking my arm, he turned me to face the second horse.

I pulled out of his grasp, still glaring at him. "You're trying to sell to the King's Own? Are you trying to set up a meeting with the Lord Provost?"

"Keep your voice down," George chuckled in reply. "No, I am not. I've already sold the horse to the palace, they can do what they like with it, as long as he doesn't become dog food – I paid good money for the beast. I just brought him up with her."

At his words, I turned to look the other horse over. It was a mare, with a light brown coat and night black hair. Stepping into the stall, I looked her over briskly as Jon had taught me. "She looks good," I finally said, glancing up at George, "though, I should did expect that to be the case," I added, smiling slightly at him. "What's her name?"

"It's the custom of the buyer to name the horse," George replied.

I studied her again, looking her over once more. "Copperglow," I finally replied, running one hand over my new horse. "For the coat."

George nodded in reply. "It's a good name." He paused, then added, "She's well trained in case anything like a riot happens to break out, and is quite lively, but also controllable and calm. She'll be well suited to your personality."

"Okay," I replied softly, peering the horse in the eyes and blowing at the horse's nose.

George chuckled. "You're getting acquainted already? You haven't bought her yet, Mistress," he said teasingly.

I laughed softly as I took a step back, allowing Copperglow to return to her oats. "As if I'd ever be able to successfully steal from you, George," I retorted. "Where's the papers?"

George produced them from a packet, and we got down to business. Under the watchful eye of Stefan and every four-legged occupant in the stables, we bargained until reaching a suitable price. George would've given me the horse outright, but I had pointed out that the palace – namely my parents – would've never let me near such a gift – I was, after all, a princess, and plots to take the throne weren't unheard of. All we had to do for proof was look at my deceased cousin Roger. At last after handing over the money, we signed the papers here and there, then finally wrapped up.

At the back stable doors, George turned to me. "Don't be a stranger," he said, pulling his hood back over his face. "Come down and visit us sometimes."

I smiled. "I'll try to George. I'm getting older now – it's harder for me to sneak out without being missed."

George favoured my answer with a quick nod, then a bow, then strode out, clasping his things – he now looked like just another trader who'd entered the palace, which, in a way, he was. I smiled, watching him leave, then returned to greet my new horse again. I was lucky in a way – she was about the same size as Star, meaning I didn't have to get new tack. As I reached for my brush, Stefan appeared in the entrance to the stall. "T'was nice t'see you two get along again," he remarked.

I smiled. "It was nice," I agreed, running the brush gently through Copperglow's coat. Whether she appreciated it or not I couldn't tell – she was still engrossed in her oats. We were silent for a while, enjoying the smells and sounds of the stables in the afternoon. At last I lay my brush aside and exited the stall, looking at Stefan. "How's Star?" I asked him softly.

Stefan shrugged. "As well as can be expected, milady. She's getting on a bit."

"I know," I replied sadly. "I shall have to introduce her and Copperglow sometime. I hope it will be alright."

Stefan surprised me by laying a hand on my shoulder. "Star loves you," he said simply. "T'will be okay."

I nodded, then walked down the aisles to say hello to my first, and possibly best, equine friend.

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><p><strong>Sorry if the speech makes no sense or has errors. I wasn't really sure how to get Stefan to talk, and well, George is even harder seeing as he keeps different personas depending on where he is and what company he was in, so I just let him speak Common English (I think that's what its called in the Tortallan universe)<strong>

**I hope you guys liked it. I'll see you around :)**

**Love MagicalLeaves**


	11. Falling

**Another chapter!. Yay for me, and for you!**

**Willow almost tips over the edge...**

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><p>I was bored.<p>

Actually, more than bored. I was slowly going crazy. What I needed was a way out, some time alone, away from all the nobles fawning over me.

Unfortunately, for me, I couldn't break down, not in public view of the Court. I also couldn't just get up and leave – not at my own birthday celebrations.

Fighting back a scowl, I turned to engage in a meaningless conversation with a noble I didn't recognise who had approached to pay their respects.

_Honestly, why do they even have to congratulate me? Is it because it's an amazing feat to have managed to survive for 18 years?_

Someone kicked me under the table. I looked over into Thom's face. He raised a brow imperceptibly. With a soft sigh I looked away to meet Gary's eyes. He gave me an encouraging nod. My gaze flitted over to Alex, who was sitting with his sister. He shot me a quick smile, and I felt some of my annoyance leave me. The next target of my gaze was Raoul, who was too busy being a plank of wood to notice my stare. The rest of my irritation vanished as I chuckled softly at him. Part of me was envious that Raoul had the freedom to do that. Most of me, however, was just amused at the expression and stature of the big man.

Sighing, trying to retain the levity I had just felt, I looked across the table to my parents. Mother smiled encouragingly, while Father nodded. It was only for them that I was doing this. My true party had been the night before, celebrated with only my close friends. We had been allowed to explore Corus, and then take a private dinner in the palace, just the group of us with our food and wine – or in mine and Thom's case, juice. In return, I had agreed to this showy celebration, turning up in a shimmering gold satin gown embroidered with navy blue thread, which Mother had had specially made just for this day. I myself had thought the gown too showy, but as the night had worn on I found myself occasionally brushing the soft fabric and admiring the way it sparkled in the light. What could I say? I was a girl in many respects, and girls liked beautiful dresses. And this dress was beautiful, if a little showy.

Applause cut through my contemplation of my gown, and I focused again in front of my on the next course, which were subtleties – basically art made out of food. This one – the last, and obviously the best – was marzipan, an eagle perched on a branch, stained gold. Around the base, flowers out of spun sugar of every colour imaginable sparkled in the light. I too brought my hands together, sighing in pleasure at the whole thing.

"I didn't think this sort of thing would be of interest to you."

I looked over at Thom as the eagle was wheeled out, and things began to get cleared away. At my glance he explained, "You always seemed to be a person of minimal waste."

"Perhaps you think that the food itself is wasted," I replied. "But a thing of beauty is joyous to me, and to me, the fact that such things can bring joy make it very useful indeed."

Thom considered my answer. "When you put it that way, then indeed, we probably both are right," he replied, his gaze thoughtful.

I grinned. At his inquiring gaze, I said, "Only you would say you're still right to the Crown Princess."

Thom smiled ruefully, shrugging.

A noise drew my attention to the floor. It looked like the musicians had finished setting up. Thom and I exchanged glances, then he rose and offered me a hand. Sighing at the next part of my ordeal, I placed my hand in his and too rose, before he led me to the floor.

Everett intercepted us on the way. He swept both of us deep bows. "Your Royal Highness. My Lord."

_I should have known it would've never been that easy._ Cursing mentally, I inclined my head. "Everett," I replied politely, while Thom bowed in return.

"May I intercede?"

In that moment, my polite mask fell away. "No, you may not. I told you not to come near me again," I said flatly.

To my dismay, he extended his hand. "Perhaps after this dance, you would change your mind, Your Highness?"

"No. I will not. Now please move. You are in the way."

I sensed movement before someone appeared behind us. From the height, I guessed it was Raoul. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Gary casually walking over as if there was an interesting conversation taking place – which there was. Except it wasn't interesting. Just annoying.

Everett glanced from me to Thom, lowering his hand. "You would not speak for your lady?" he asked abruptly, addressing Thom for the second time that night. "You would let her speak for herself?"

Thom, to his credit, remained calm – I'd seen him get annoyed at the slightest thing. "Princess Willow of Conté is perfectly capable of speaking for herself. It is better to let a lady express her true feelings, rather than to second guess them," he said patiently.

"Well spoken, Lord Thom," Everett replied, his gaze mocking. "She has you well trained. And are these her guard dogs?" he added, referring to Raoul, Gary, and Alex who had also just joined us.

I'd had enough of the conversation. "Do you know how to wield a blade, Everett?"

"Every man of Stone Mountain knows," he exclaimed, offended.

"Good," I replied curtly. "Then I will get to watch you get trounced by Gary, Raoul, and Alex who will no doubt challenge you for insulting their respective honours. Alex in particular, I've heard, is one of the best knights in our Realm." As the man stared at me, I added, "I do know how duels go about. Now out of my way. You're delaying my dance."

Taking my cue, Thom took my hand again and we walked around the gaping Everett.

It was as I was enjoying

The swishing of my gown and the silence of a defeated idiot that said idiot spoke again – and proved he was not finished. "I gather that's not all you know about the lord Alex."

Alex may have been one of the best swordfighters in all of Tortall, but somehow I was faster. My gaze pinned Everett to his place. "What did you say?"

My whisper tore through the now deathly-silent room. Everybody had heard Everett – he'd practically yelled his words to be clearly heard. If looks could kill, he'd have dropped dead right then and there.

Though speaking of death, he didn't look so good. An odd look had crossed his face and he appeared petrified by me.

"How dare you," I said, keeping to the same soft whisper. "You dare insult my honour, on such a day. You dare insult the honour of my dearest friend? Sir Alexander of Tirragen is a man, a good man, and has more than ten – Goddess, more than one hundred times the honour a whelp like you will ever accumulate in your lifetime. How dare you insinuate such things. I have never – I mean-"

I was too angry to continue. _How dare he!_ Trembling, I clenched my fists and stared at him. He was going paler and paler. "Your Highness," he finally whispered. "Please."

"Please what?" I snapped. "Forgive you? You must be more cracked as I think you are. You'll be lucky if you're allowed to stay in Court." I continued to glare as he dropped to his knees, wheezing. Looking down, I felt a savage glee – at last he was getting what he so richly deserved.

"Willow-"

"What?" My face swung up from the gasping Everett. Raoul's eyes widened and he flinched at my gaze.

That one action stirred me a little. I looked back down at Everett, this time catching the fire that I missed before, the fire that raced over his pitiful form. A glowing fire. A blue fire.

My fire.

Someone slapped me. With a gasp I looked away, snapping out of it. I met clear brown eyes, fearful, yet determined.

Shutting my eyes, I took a shaky breath, then stepped around Gary. "You should thank Sir Gareth the Younger of Naxen," I said, my voice still ice-cold, yet trembling slightly. "He saved your life. Though I have no idea why anybody would want such a thing like you to exist."

I swallowed, then added, "Get out of this Court, Everett of Stone Mountain. Get out of this palace. Get out of Corus. Do not return. Ever."

I did not wait for him to reply. I did not wait for my friends to say anything. I did not wait to see the reaction of the now silent Court.

With the last of my composure that was slipping away quicker and quicker, I turned and left the court at a quick walk. It was the tears that broke my concentration – the moment I felt one on my face, I broke into a desperate run, despite the stupid slippers on my feet.

I didn't hear the crack as Everett finally fell limply to the floor, relieved at being alive, and shocked by my attack on him. I didn't hear the people who burst into chaos as I left. I didn't hear my friends chase me down the hall.

I only heard my own feet as I barrelled down the hallway, trying to keep a lid on my emotions as I pointed myself straight at my room. The moment I arrived, I threw myself inside, tears already escaping my control

Then, I dropped to my knees in the middle of my carpet, and let loose.

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><p><strong>And just when you thought everything was going to be okay...a dick comes along.<br>****Stupid men are stupid. Angsty chapter is angsty. Yes, I've been planning this for a long time. I just never got around to writing it. **

**Hope you like it :)  
>If you do, drop off a review! It would be much appreciated!<br>Love MagicalLeaves**


	12. Being Caught

**Yep, aonther chapter. The problem with quantity is quality. I think it's good on the spur of the moment, but apart from that, It's probably crap compared to what I would write if I had more time. Unfortunately, I don't have more time. **

**That being said, some of my best work is done in a little amount of time - like NaNoWriMo, which I recommend to all of you**

**Spontaneous promotions aside, I hope you like it. It's a bit fluffy, but sort of in a depressing way.**

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><p>Magic slammed against magic with an audible crack.<p>

I looked up.

Some of the men I'd let into my life stood in the doorway, their faces in varying degrees of fear, concern, or anger. They didn't move through the doorway, obviously too afraid. _Of me._ At that relevation, I let out another sob, and another tendril of fire slammed against the barrier.

At the forefront of the trio stood Thom. It was his purple fire that had created the sudden shield around me. "You'll need new carpet," was all he said, stepping into the room. "I tried to save as much as I could, but even I'm not that fast."

I looked down. A perfect circle of blackness was under my knees, accompanied by the smell of charred wool. A small fire had sprung up on the side. My furniture had been jumbled a little by the shockwave caused by the colliding Gifts.

Thom moved around me, and used the poker and his Gift to shove the fire into the fireplace. Part of me was awed at the way he could keep a handle on my shield, and the fire, all without looking at me. I wished I could be like that. Somehow, right now, I didn't think I could.

Finished with the fire, Thom now crouched in front of me, on the other side of his barrier of course. "Do you remember your meditation exercises?" he asked, his voice gentle, as if he were dealing with a spooked horse. Gary and Raoul continued watching from the relative safety of the doorway.

My response was to curl into a tight ball. "Go away."

Thom sighed. "We're not leaving you like that. You could tear down the palace."

My head shot up, and I stared at him. "Oh yes," he said in response to my astonishment, "all a basic mage would need for that is the right spells, and their life. And you, Princess, are much more powerful than any basic mage."

"Then you better leave," I replied in a muffled voice, returning to burying my head in my knees. "Get everyone out." A sob accompanied my words.

A heard a sigh. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Maybe I should've said that everyone here is your friend and none of us will leave you in such a state."

There was movement, and then the voice of a new arrival spoke up. "Lord Thom, with your permission-"

"It's Thom," Thom corrected without looking away, "and no. _Definitely not_."

"Please." Someone knelt next to Thom, and I knew without looking who else had arrived. "Trust me."

There was a long silence, in which I curled up tighter on the ruined carpet. At last somebody brushed my arm lightly.

My head shot up again. The circle that Thom had enclosed me in was gone. Alex knelt in front of me, his face careful. "It's me," he said simply. "It's okay."

"Don't," I whispered, terrified I would hurt him, and the others. _Mithros and Goddess, how could Thom even think to let down his barrier? That was a death sentence for everyone in this room!_

"Look at me." Alex grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I felt his fingers tighten ever-so-slightly as the magic that had been crawling all over me jumped to him. Other than that there was nothing. No burning, no pain, no death. He smiled gently. "There. See? I'm okay."

It was his smile, the one he reserved only for me, the one which brought up so many memories of more beautiful, happier times, that shattered the link between my emotions and my Gift. I looked from him to Thom, standing there with his Gift blazing on his hands, just in case; Gary, who stared at me, worry and pain ablaze on his face; Raoul, anger at everything I had just been through burning through his eyes. The rest of me fell away from everything, and I surrendered to Alex's arms, burying myself in his embrace.

"It's okay," he whispered, rocking me. "It's okay. Everything will be okay."

And finally, thankfully, I cried.

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><p><strong>Okay, I got rid of that annoying Everett. And now, Willow has a lot of problems ahead of her...which is exactly the way I planned it. *evil grin*<strong>

**If you liked it, let me know, and if you didn't, tell me why! In other words, review, because I think that my work done under a little time period is completely different from work done when I have time to look over it later. :)**

**Also, reviewing some of the stuff I've written, I've noticed quite a few typos and errors that I've made and never noticed. I apologise for those, and I won't mind if you point them out to me, because I hate making spelling/grammar errors.**

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	13. Numb

**The day after.**

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><p>"We can't just leave her in there!"<p>

"Why not?"

"I mean, we can't leave her in there alone!"

_The arguing voices were very clear outside,_ I thought sleepily. Rolling over, I flung an arm across my eyes. It did little to block out the sun that was streaming through a gap at the top of the curtains. Plus, it did absolutely nothing to mask the rising debate outside.

Sighing softly, I rose. My feet were noiseless on the plush carpet as I padded to the door and reached for the handle. The tiny click seemed to echo throughout the room as I turned the knob.

Utter silence fell as the door swung open.

I stood in the doorway, looking them over, completely disregarding the fact that I was still in my nightgown. Gary and Alex had been the ones arguing. Raoul was sitting in one of the chairs – I suspected that he'd given up and gone silent a long time ago. Thom was leaning on the mantle of the fireplace, watching just as silently. He was the only one to meet my gaze as I stood there – the others looked away, or found something to stare at.

_They were afraid of me._ The knowledge brought a lump to my throat. Quickly I looked away to meet Thom's gaze. His eyes were expressionless, but he didn't seem afraid. Swallowing, I opened my mouth.

"Could you all please leave?"

Dead silence met my words. I bit my lip, then opened my mouth again. "I need to think."

Still, nothing. A slight irritation sprung up. "I'm fine, really. I just need to be alone right now."

Thom finally spoke. "You heard the Princess." He gestured to Gary and Alex – the two stood glaring at eachother, unmoving.

It was Raoul who finally rose. "Come on Gary," he muttered, placing a hand on my cousin's shoulder. Gary started and turned away to meet Raoul's gaze. "She'll be fine," Raoul continued firmly.

Gary's eyes finally swung round to look at me. His gaze faltered briefly, then held. After assessing me in a moment, he shut his eyes, then opened them. "Alright," he finally said, still obviously reluctant. He turned without saying another word, and walked out.

Alex took longer to convince, but eventually Raoul, Thom, and I managed to persuade him to leave. He shot me a glance as he left, and I knew this – whatever it was – wasn't over. The knowledge made me nervous, and I shifted on my feet.

But, whatever the feelings I had for Alex at the moment, he was gone, and suddenly the room was a whole lot less smothered. I gave a sigh of relief, looking gratefully at the two remaining men. "Thanks" I said softly to Thom and Raoul.

Raoul only managed a nod before turning and walking out quickly. I fought not to cry – that one display last night had probably changed everything forever. I wondered how long it would be before any of them would be able to speak to me properly again.

"You're welcome."

I jumped at the words, then realised Thom was still in the room. He looked me up and down, then asked, "Would you like me to leave as well?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "I would like to be alone," I replied softly, glad that at least one of my friends was still on speaking terms with me.

Thom met my gaze again. "You know," he said finally, "I've been wanting to be left alone ever since I was introduced to Court. I didn't consider that being alone applied to friends as well." He hesitated, then added, "They are still your friends, Willow. They just have to take some time to remember it."

"What about you?" The words spilled from my lips before I could stop them.

Thom paused on his way out, looking over his shoulder. "Yes," he said finally, looking thoughtful. "Yes, I do believe I am your friend." He seemed slightly surprised by this idea.

I nodded, mostly to myself, and watched as he took his leave.

And finally I was alone.

Turning, I assessed my room. The charred carpet was the only reminder of last night – the furniture had been reset to normal and the mess had been cleared up.

The fireplace caught my eye – or rather the letter perched on the mantle. Crossing the room, I plucked Jon's letter from its position. It seemed like only yesterday that I'd gotten the letter from Stefan, bought a new horse from George, and been happy. A lump rose in my throat, but I pushed it away – if I succumbed to tears now I would probably set something else on fire.

When I next came to myself, Iw as sitting in front of the flames, the letter in my hand. I hadn't remembered tearing open the envelope, but it lay there next to me, painfully white in the sun.

As a distraction more than anything else I unfolded the single slip of paper.

_Dear Willow,_

_I hope this letter reaches you in good condition. Likewise, I hope you're well. I can't help but worry over you while I'm gone, even though I know you're in excellent hands._

_I'm writing this in the tent I share with Alanna – we reached her Bazhir tribe yesterday. It's called Bloody Hawk tribe, and the people there are kind and fair for those who are warring with us. _

_It was good to see Alanna again, and no doubt we will return sometime in the coming month – she has heard my offer and is thinking on it. I hope she can come to an agreement soon before long._

_Still, let me not burden you with my stories, I wish to only know that you are okay._

_I hope to hear from you soon._

_With love,_

_Jonothan._

_P.S. Happy Birthday. I'm still sorry for missing it yesterday. I thought you would like the gift – I purchased it in Persopolis when we passed through on the way to see Alanna. _

Automatically I looked back down to the envelope, hefting the paper and turning it. A fine gold chain slid out of the package, the tiniest sapphire I'd ever seen hanging on the end, of the deepest blue, fashioned into a tear drop. Jon was right, I did like it. I liked my jewellery to be simple.

I'd almost forgotten that last night had been a celebration for my birthday. A sob welled up in my throat. _My birthday. My birthday, and that thing that _dared _call himself a man had treated me like a slattern at a tavern in the Lower City._ As soon as I'd had this thought, I giggled, somewhat hysterically, at the irony of it – I in fact did know some prostitutes in Lower City, and they had more integrity than some of the nobles in Court. "At least they're clear on who they are," I muttered, feeling the first sting of tears.

It was then I realised why my face and eyes were still dry – because I was too. I'd done my crying last night. Now there wasn't anything to do, to say, to feel. Everything was silent inside. I felt nothing. Empty.

Numb.

_I wish Jon was here._

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><p><strong>Sorry about the really short note at the top. I honestly didn't know what to say.<strong>

**Also, I was going to write more today, but then this chapter made me feel all depressed and sad because Willow is missing Jon and having hard times. And I've never had that much emotion come from a chapter before.**

**Pride? Hell yeah. That's different. I'm proud of all my work, because I have the strength to put it up there. Actual, genuine emotion that is evoked by my work? No, because I know it's fictional so I'm able to keep distanced from it.**

**Not this time.**

**Hopefully, you will enjoy this chapter as much as I have. I mean, in the "This is an amazing story" way, not as in it was funny because, well, it wasn't really.**

**And now I will try get over my sadness and try writing some more, but I don't know if I'll be able to because every time I even think about this damn chapter I feel slightly depressed.**

**If you love it, review and say so. If you don't review and tell me about any improvements I can make. And also any spelling errors pointed out are appreciated. :)**

**Love, MagicalLeaves**


	14. Still Numb

**The shortest chapter I've ever written. My A/N will be longer than it.**

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><p>The hours passed. The days passed. The weeks passed.<p>

It did not get better.

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><p><strong>I was going to write more, but then I looked at it, and realised it looked really good like that. If you don't like it, oh well, I did. I thought it was suitable.<strong>


	15. Sometimes Love is not Enough

**Another depressing chapter coming up. Sorry if it upsets you, but I'm dragging it out a bit more. If all goes to plan than this should be the last bit of angst for now, but I only have a rough idea of where I'm going next, so that may change.**

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><p>Every day I went through the same motions, a robot. I got up. I dressed. I ate. I rode. I studied.<p>

And like a robot, I did not smile. I did not laugh. I did not cry. I nodded. I replied. I walked. But I did not speak. I did not greet. I did not act.

It was easier that way. It was easier to hide everything if you acted like nothing was there.

The bump in the road finally came in the form of Myles, who ran into me at the library. He looked me over, then opened his mouth to say something.

"Hello Myles," I said. At his open mouth, I tilted my head quizzically.

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head.

A notion blossomed in my head. "If you're back, that must mean Jon has also returned…" I said slowly. It was an odd sensation, having an idea after all those days of staying invisible.

Myles' face changed. "I do not recommend seeing him, Your Highness," he replied, his voice softening.

I tilted my head the other way. "Alanna said no," I guessed, my voice still the same expressionless tone. At his surprised look, I shrugged, saying, "Jon told me of his intention to propose to her before he left with you."

Myles sighed. "Yes. Alanna declined. They had a disagreement over it." He paused, then added, "Jon wanted to see you the instant we arrived at the palace, but I talked him out of it. I have been receiving interesting news of the court during our travels." He cast an eye over me, then added, his face softening, "That Everett of Stone Mountain really did a number on you, didn't he?"

"If you're referring to his disgraceful conduct at a recent ball, and how I'm faring, then I shall say right now that I'm perfectly fine," I replied, my face and voice still flat.

Myles sighed. "As you will, Your Highness." He shrugged. "Though it pains me to see you reduced to such a thing. It seems that Jon left at exactly the wrong time. He's missed more than just a birthday." He swept me a bow, then turned and strode out of the library. I stared after him, feeling the first stirrings of – what? Confusion? I didn't know what it was, but it wasn't a comfortable sensation.

~oOo~

Jon was out when I stopped in front of his rooms. This much I knew, for he hadn't answered the door when I knocked. I hesitated, then laid a hand on the doorknob. Sapphire fire glowed briefly, then the lock clicked and the door swung open.

It had been the first time I'd even gone near his room since that disastrous ball. Now, standing in the doorway, I felt the first lump hit my throat as I surveyed the room I knew almost as well as my own. My gaze caught and slid over the well-worn carpet, the faded armchairs, the mantle over the fireplace. The next I was in a chair, his chair in fact. Not caring if he found me later, I curled up on the fabric, inhaling my older brother's scent and feeling like I was a child again. I shut my eyes and let the tears come gradually, feeling them trace their way down my face and spot my dress as each made its individual mark on the rustling fabric.

"Willow?"

I opened my eyes. As if my tears had summoned him, Jon stood in the doorway, peering at me.

I looked down again and swiped a hand across my cheeks. "Hello Jon," I managed.

"Where have you been?" Jon demanded. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

After some fumbling I finally located my handkerchief and used it to clean my face. "Not here."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I laughed humourlessly. "Not here," I repeated. It was true. I hadn't been here. I'd been…away. Gone. Somewhere even I didn't know.

"Well, I need your help." Jon came in, keeping his gaze on mine. "I want you to talk to Alanna."

I sat up so fast that I saw stars. "No."

"I need you to make her see sense about all this-what?"

"Oh, you heard me. Well then, hear this: No."

Jon stared at me, but I wasn't seeing him. "Jon, it would never have worked. I tried to tell you before you left, but you didn't hear me then, and I doubt, even though you're looking at me, that you're hearing me now. No amount of time or persuasion will make her say yes. It's not the life she wanted. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find somewhere else to cry." I rose, drying the last of the tearstains on my face.

"But I love her," Jon protested. "And she loves me! At least, I thought she did…"

"Sometimes love is not enough," I snapped, suddenly tired of it. I was tired of it all. Jon should've seen that he could never marry someone as free as Alanna. To tie her down here, as queen, as a noble, was exactly what she'd avoided by becoming a knight. To ensnare her in this position would kill not only their love, but their friendship.

"I'm sure you and Alex would know all about that, no?"

The sound of skin on skin was surprisingly loud in the ensuing silence. My eyes found Jon's as he slowly raised a hand to his cheek to cover the faint pink-turning-red splotch that began to creep over his face.

It was then I spotted someone over his shoulder. Myles stood in the doorway. With him was Gary. That Gary had seen it was bad. But that Myles, my former chess-tutor and still frequent opponent, my peer and mentor, my friend, had seen it was even worse.

I thrust past Jon and strode forward. "Get out of my way," I said flatly to the pair at the door. They obeyed silently.

Gary's voice followed me down the hall as I walked, then ran. "You are the biggest git in the whole of Corus."

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><p><strong>Oh a cliffhanger. Dun dun dun!<strong>

**And yes, the depressing tone is still getting to me. I've never had something I wrote affect me personally. It's an odd feeling. Anyway, hope you like it in the "it's good work" way, because it's too depressing to be liked, because it's not fun. Does that make sense? Any way, I hope to continue soon!**

**Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated!**

**Love, MagicalLeaves**


	16. Confessions of a Murderer

**I noticed in one of my earlier chapters that I'd made a slight mistake. I wrote that Jon had left with Coram. Reading over the books again, he actually didnt' - Coram left first, followed by Jon, who left with Myles later. Apologies for that error. **

**Anyway. Onwards.**

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><p>It was sunny. The golden light wound its way through the leaves, pooling on the grassy bank here and there in dazzling bursts. Somewhere in a tree a pair of finches chattered eagerly. The chirruping was interspersed by the gentle flow of water.<p>

I stared at the stream in front of me. The sunlight sparkled over the top, and I chased it with my gaze trying to find some measure of calm, something, _anything_ to make my anger go away.

It didn't work. With a soft moan I thrust back from the stream edge, rocking back on my heels. I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my face in my knees.

"Help me."

The words startled me – I hadn't realised I'd spoken until about that moment. But suddenly I couldn't stop. "Help me. Great Mother, Mithros, Ganiel – someone, help me." The tears began to form, and try as I might I couldn't stop one after another spotting my knees. "Help."

In the wake of my whisper came footfalls. After a few moments I heard a soft noise as someone sat next to me. Somehow knowing exactly who it was without looking, I buried my face in my knees again, silently cursing my words and making a mental note to next time be _very_ specific in my prayers for help. Of all the people to turn to, it_ had_ to be him that turned up. _Goddess, why? Next time I will pray for help from specific people!_

To my surprise Jon didn't speak. Instead, he continued to sit there silently. I curled up tighter, my irritation slowly growing. It was as if he was giving me the cold shoulder until I apologised for my sins – _even though he should be the one apologising to me!_

"Jon, if you're not going to talk to me, just go away," I snapped, finally looking up at him.

I met violet eyes.

With a yelp I scrambled away, tipping forward.

A hand grabbed mine. Thom yanked me back before I fell face-first into the stream in front of me. The moment I was on steady ground I dropped his hand, turning away. "Thanks," I muttered, my face burning.

"I do apologise." Thom's voice was quiet. "I thought you knew who I was. I didn't think I'd be mistaken for someone else."

I sat back down in the same position, my arms tight around my knees. "Why are you here?" I asked, my voice softer now.

"Because."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, glaring at him.

Thom sighed and sat down next to me, holding up a hand. "One. Being alone is never very fun. Two. You don't deserve that. Three. Because to send an un-Gifted person to look for you might prove disastrous. Four. Because nobody else will. Five. Because, I, Thom of Trebond, consider you a friend, and I care."

I was staring at him by the end of his spiel. "I can't believe you said that," I said quietly.

"I can't believe it either," he replied, "so will you let me stay?"

I didn't reply, looking back down at my knees. "I don't think Jon and I will ever be the same again," I said instead, my voice tremulous.

"Relationships aren't meant to be static." I felt Thom shift as he found a better position to sit in. "They move. Whether they go forward or backwards is up to you and the other person or people."

I looked at him. "For someone with on friends, you seem to think you know a lot about friendship," I remarked.

Thom shrugged. "I have Alanna. That relationship alone shows me that relationships change – if only because the people of those relationships change."

I was silent. He was right. And Jon wasn't the only one who had changed. But- "He won't apologise to me for this. Not for a long time."

There was a long silence before Thom finally said, "He'll come around. You are both family. You may want to kill eachother occasionally, but he is your brother, as you are his sister. Just because your paths don't take you in the same directions doesn't mean you can't ask for help to keep walking it."

I nodded numbly. "I-I thought he would help me. That I could tell him. But he just – he's turning into a noble."

"Your brother isn't 'just a noble'," Thom said, "He's the Crown Prince. It stands to reason he would be arrogant."

"No, it's not that." I turned to face Thom. "One of the reasons Jon left Court was to get away from everyone fawning over him. Maybe it was selfish, but I can't fault him for wanting to escape. He wanted to show everyone that he wasn't just a bird in a cage. I think that's why he wanted to marry Alanna. Not just because he loved her. But to prove that he was his own person, that the Court didn't own him." I shivered. "He was using Alanna as a, a thing." _Like Everett had been doing to me._ The words were unspoken, but I knew from the sharpness in Thom's eyes that he had understood without me needing to say anything at all.

"Did you tell him that?" Thom wanted to know.

I shook my head. "He wanted me to talk Alanna into the marriage. I saw the look on his face – he is restless, he wants to prove he can do this. He doesn't want it because he loves her – he wants it to prove…something, I can't explain it, but it's there. That's why we argued. Granted, I was already on edge, but what he wanted…I couldn't do that. They don't need me to tear eachother to pieces." I wiped away what felt uncomfortably like a tear.

"You can't mean that." Thom's voice was quiet. "Alanna's not just your friend, she's my sister too."

"Maybe I won't mean it later, but I sure do now," I replied, my fists clenching. "I wish that they'd just go duel it out. Maybe they'd feel better after whacking eachother with their pointy sticks."

Thom's hand covered mine.

I looked down, and only then noticed the blur fire that crawled over mine and now his hand.

"You need to learn magic."

I looked up. Thom's face seemed impossibly close. If I leaned in any more I could kiss him.

Carefully I pulled my hand out from under his, then turned away. "You know my views on magic." My voice was carefully toneless as I studied my hands, letting my hair fall down like a curtain between us.

A hand lifted my ebony locks. The other gripped my chin gently. "Look at me." Carefully Thom directed my face to his. I swallowed, meeting his gaze, my hands trembling in my lap. "I didn't say 'should'. I said 'need'. Meditation only stretches so far. If you want to gain a better grip on your Gift, you have to learn magic. Any magic. I know that you have skill in scrying, healing, and some fire magic. You need to learn other things as well. It would teach discipline. Otherwise you will keep…flaring."

Lecture done, he let go of my face, moving back. He didn't even seem aware of the way he had acted, or how it could've been interpreted had we been seen. I looked back down at my hands quickly. During his speech I'd found the calm necessary to cool my Gift, and my hands no longer glowed. "When should I start?" My voice was quiet, and resigned – I'd known for a long time it would come to this.

There was a long silence before Thom finally replied. "Not today – here's too much going on. But during this week would be recommended – no, necessary." He paused, and I felt him studying me. "You never told me why you never wanted to learn magic."

"Roger was my cousin, and you ask me such things?" I said, surprise colouring my voice and face.

"Just because Roger was evil does not mean magic is." Thom glared at me. "The Gift the weapon of the mage, like a sword is the weapon of the knight. Both can be turned to good or ill intent. If you're afraid of the Gift because of what Roger has done, then you're more fool than I thought you were."

"It's not just because of Roger," I replied softly, "but also because of me. I don't need magic to kill, Thom. I can do that already." In fact, I had. I couldn't save every patient that had come my way, and so had to resort to easing their pain or sending them to their final sleep. The knowledge brought a fresh batch of tears to my eyes, but I checked them fiercely. If I started crying again, I didn't think I'd be able to stop. And the time for crying was long past.

"And if you learn magic there is less chance of it getting away from you," Thom replied patiently. He sighed. "I dislike having to force anything, but you really have no choice. I thought I could entice you into magic, but you remained as dead-set against it as ever. I had forgotten the stubbornness of the Conté family." He shook his head. "Don't make me order you."

"That would have no effect, Thom," I replied quietly. "My rank is higher than yours. It would ruin our friendship, and nothing good would come of it." Seeing him open his mouth, I forestalled him with a raised hand. "Nevertheless, I've come to understand your words. It seems I have no choice – I shall have to begin basic mage training." I paused, then added, "Would Jon be able to teach me this stuff?"

Thom tilted his head. "Yes," he finally answered, his voice reluctant, "but I don't recommend approaching him at this point in time.

"I wasn't going to," I replied quietly. "I was just curious. Maybe later, when all has settled." A lump rose in my throat at the words, but I ruthlessly squashed it – this was Jon's fault, not mine, and he would be the one to make the first move.

Thom glanced at me. "And if it's not settled later?" When I blinked at him, he added, "If he does not approach you to resolve this, will you approach him? Or will you just leave it to fester?"

I looked away. "I don't know," I admitted. "I just don't know. But-" I looked back at Thom intently "-I intend to cross that bridge when I come to it. Whether or not Jon is waiting on the other side is up to him."

Thom favoured my answer with a nod, then stood fluidly. "I think we've been out here long enough. Any longer ad your Father may send a search party for you." He offered me a hand.

I took it , allowing him to pull me to my feet, then smiled slightly at him. "Thank you."

Thom seemed taken aback for a second – whether by my words or smile, I didn't know – before recovering quickly. "Think nothing of it. It would've been my head on a platter if I hadn't."

I snorted, remembering Alanna's parting words before she and Coram had left. "That's not why you did it," I replied, "and you and I both know that."

Thom conceded my point with a slight bow of his head, then nodded to the trees. "I think we should make our way back to the palace now."

I sighed softly, turning in the same direction. "I think you may be right," I replied in a resigned tone. Thom nodded, and the two of us began the short walk back to civilisation.

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><p><strong>Hmmm. Now what?<strong>

**Hope you liked it. I actually wrote this last night, but then forgot to upload it, so I'm doing that today XD**

**Please review, and any mistakes pointed out is appreciated!**

**Love MagicalLeaves**


	17. The Definition of Human

**Wrote this chapter today, and I plan to write more as well! :D**

**Oh look, more dialogue and stuff stolen from Tamora Pierce. I own nothing. It is all hers. I've just stolen her paints for a while.**

**In which some new - an interesting - people are introduced, and where Jon and Willow struggle with eachother...**

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><p>"Jonathan."<p>

Though it wasn't my name that was spoken, I did look up. My mother beckoned to Jon, summoning him away from the crowd of people. I watched as he walked over to bow to Mother, noting with scorn how the courtiers whispered over his unusual darkness that had appeared ever since he'd returned. Still sitting where I was, I continued watching as Mother beckoned a tall slender blonde woman forward.

"Prince Jonathan, may I make Princess Josiane known to you?" Mother asked. "Josiane is the second daughter of the King of the Copper Isles; she has come to stay with us for a time. Her mother and I were good friends. Josiane, my son, Jonathan."

Josiane, who had been curtsying throughout the entire introduction, looked up at my brother, and spoke. "Prince Jonathan, it is an honour to meet the man who fought so bravely in the Tusaine War." Her voice was soft and husky.

My brother took Josiane's hand, kissing her fingertips and raising her to her feet. "I was just a boy then, Princess," he replied softly. She only smiled in reply. "Would you care to dance?"

"I would love to," she replied, and she glided away at his side.

I scowled, looking away. I had seen the look in Jon's eyes – he was replacing Alanna. It wasn't even out of attraction that he was doing this – he only wanted a rebound. I looked down, sickened.

"Their Royal Highnesses, Princes Teon and Lars, Ambassadors of Tyra."

At the herald's voice, I looked up. Sending not one, but _two_ princes? _Whyever would any country do that?_ I wondered curiously.

The pair of men that approached did not look related. The first was blond-haired and blue-eyed. The other, walking by his side, had brown hair and clear green eyes like newly-sprouted grass in Spring.

They also walked _arm-in-arm._ Instantly I made the connection, even as I only then heard the whispers from the courtiers.

_There had been rumours that one of the Tyran princes liked his own gender. Obviously, the rumours were in fact truth, _I mused, surprised, watching as they stopped in front of my parents' thrones and bowed deeply.

I was quick to recover, cutting a path through the silent glittering throng to meet them. They, having exchanged greetings and pleasantries with my parents, turned away to now address me. I returned their bows with a curtsy of my own, then crossed to stand in front of them.

"Cousins, I bid thee welcome," I said, making sure my voice was clearly heard as I greeted them from one royal to another. "I hope you enjoy your time and our hospitality in this humble country that is my home." I wasn't finished. Stepping forwards, I kissed and embraced them formally, because they _were_ royal dignitaries.

Ignoring the surprised whispers, I stepped back, smiling a genuine smile at them – after all, they were people. Just because they were men who happened to like other men didn't make them any different. The pair seemed shocked by my behaviour, and the blond was the first to recover. "Your Highness," he replied, bowing to me again and returning the smile,, "My name is Teon, and this is Lars. We come to represent Tyra, who wishes to work with you towards common grounds. And I know, thanks to you, that we will have a wonderful stay."

I nodded, my smile widening slightly as I noticed that Jon and Josiane now stood almost forgotten on the dance floor, the majority of the courtiers riveted by my interactions with the two gay men. I hadn't intended that to happen, but I couldn't help feeling grim satisfaction. _Maybe Jon would learn that the world doesn't revolve around him._

~oOo~

"Gay princes! As ambassadors!"

"What is the problem with that?" I demanded, glaring. "Just because they're gay doesn't make them non-human!"

Jon turned to face me, irritated." 'Tyra wishes to work with us towards common grounds'," he quoted the princes mockingly. "Common grounds! Please. If they really did want our relations to work, they could've sent an unattached prince, this is just insulting-"

I shot to my feet, staring at him. That he would judge based on what they were, and then imply possible marriage- "Out. Now." My voice was icy.

Embarrassment swept over Jon's face as the impact of what he'd said hit him, then his features tightened. He gave me a curt nod, then swept from my room.

Once he was gone I sank back into my chair with a soft sigh, burying my face in my hands. We had come back together out of a mutual agreement to present a united front to the visiting ambassadors – it was the season for such things, and we were entertaining not only the Tyran princes, but Carthaki and Gallan ambassadors as well - but our last argument had not been resolved, the insults still raw. Every now and then one of us would say something that would come between us, and it hurt both of us deeply. That being said, neither of us wanted to make the first move to the other, and that hurt even more than anything else.

It was that last thought that decided it. I got up, thrusting open the door, and striding down the hall.

Jon and I had been at odds for long enough, and I didn't care who made the first move. I just wanted it done.

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><p><strong>I support gays. And lesbians. And bisexuals. And any other sexualities. Because at the end of the day, we all have two arms, two legs, to hands, two feet, and ten fingers and toes. We are all human, no matter the sexuality.<strong>

**Anyway. If you don't like that, and you decide to flame me, the door is that way. Please go before I kick you out of it.**

**Okay, spiel over, hope you enjoyed this, and hopefully Willow and Jon sort everything out! :)**

**Love, MagicalLeaves**


	18. The Bridge

**More depressing relationship stuff...Yeah.**

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><p>I caught up with Jon as he continued down the hall – I really hadn't been idle that long between his leaving and my decision to pursue him. "Jon. Wait."<p>

He turned a corner, appearing not to hear me. "Jon!"

I rounded the corner, catching sight of his shirt as he headed into a room. I followed, determined to make him hear me, just this once.

Once in the room, I did not wait for him to face me. Instead, I stood there and spoke to his back. "I'm done. I'm tired of it. I don't care about waiting for you to admit you're wrong or anything – though it would be nice if you did. I can't hate you anymore Jon. I've got too much to do without hating someone who I should always stand beside anyway. It's too exhausting. This truce is exhausting. This whole thing – it's exhausting. It's killing me." I took a breath. "Jon, the bridge is there. Cross it. Meet me halfway. Please."

It was only when I stopped that I recognised the room we were in. Sunlight shone through the window to pool on the carpet in a golden puddle. The carpet itself was old and faded with age. On it sat a rickety old table of solid oak, golden-brown in the afternoon light. And the shelf of course, high in the corner, where a young girl had once stored the family chess set…

I choked away the tears and turned my gaze back to Jon's back. He still hadn't moved or responded, though only a deaf man could not have heard my words. This time I didn't check the tears that escaped my control.

I turned away, raising a hand to my wet cheeks. I only managed to get halfway – it was just too hard to go any further. With a soft sound I let my fingers drop, then I turned away quickly.

I walked away, out the door. I walked out the door and left the room of my childhood far behind me.

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><p><strong>*sniffle*<strong>

**Yes, I am stringing this out. Yes, hopefully it will be over soon.**

**Also, I wrote a whole lot during my free time at uni today, so prepare to get spammed by more chapters! :D**

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	19. About Big Holes

**So I was intending to upload more, but I'm falling asleep and that's not a good thing because then I type really badly and everything comes out badly spelt. So yeah, hopefully I'll find some time this week to upload the rest of what I wrote. :)**

**Willow's stresses spill over...in the most 'interesting' way...**

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><p>"No, you have to put your foot there."<p>

"Okay." I shifted my foot carefully, trusting the hands that held me up.

"Good. Now, this is the next step. Follow my lead."

"You must really want to impress the Tyrans."

I glanced over at Gary, who was lounging in a chair as he watched his Father teach me the new dance. "What makes you say that?"

He raised a brow. "You hate dancing. And here you are, learning a dance you'll never use again, simply because it's not even Tortallan and will probably never be a feature of our balls – unless a Tyran of importance shows up."

I looked back to Uncle Gareth, focusing on the movement as he led me through the dance – I did want to get it right. "I don't want to impress them," I said in reply to Gary. "I just happen to hold them in very high regard."

"You like them."

My uncle and I finished the last move. I smiled and completed the dance with a curtsy. He bowed in reply, amusement in his gaze. "That was well done," he said to me. I smiled at his compliment. "Now," he said," if that is all you require of me, I must be on my way. There are things I have to attend to."

I nodded. "Thank you, Uncle Gareth."

He smiled in reply. "It was my greatest pleasure, Willow," he answered. "Please, do feel free to call on me whenever you wish to know more about diplomacy."

I snorted at his words as he took his leave. I was never one for diplomacy, choosing to leave that to Jon and my Father. The only interactions I had with any ambassadors were in the ballroom. Some things I was only too happy to let the male population manage. I personally thought that all the waffling around was just that – waffle.

"Oi. Tree Girl."

At the name, I glanced over. "Hmm?"

"The Tyran princes. You like them," Gary repeated, not as a question, but a fact.

I snorted again, this time louder. "Not that way, Gary. And if you actually talked to them once in a while, you would too. They're both actually very nice. And I highly respect how they carry and present themselves." It was true – the way they had acted, not only in court, but every time I encountered them, was as if it was completely normal to be gay – which, for them, it was. And the way they didn't take offence at anybody's reactions, and were diplomatic and patient with everyone, impressed me deeply.

"They are nice," Gary admitted, startling me. He glanced at me, choosing not to tease me about my obvious surprise at his statement. "I have a feeling that if they remain as Tyra's ambassadors, our countries will have a very good relationship indeed."

I didn't really have a reply for that. _Sometimes Gary could surprise me,_ I realised, startled. _He'd really matured over the years._

"How are things with Jon?"

The question startled me out of my silent contemplation. I shrugged without looking at my cousin.

"Oh, come on, surely you've got more than that," Gary teased gently.

I shook my head. "I haven't been talking to him," I admitted, looking at Gary. "He won't see me, past the occasional meetings in the hallways, and the times we have to discuss anything to do with Tyra. And then it will be so civil I want to die."

Gary's face softened. "Surely it can't be that bad, Will." When I didn't reply, he asked, "Do you want me to have a word with him?"

I shook my head almost immediately. "This is something Jon has to do," I replied, my voice as quiet as his was. "I just wish he'd hurry up about it."

There was another long silence before Gary spoke again. "I wish it wasn't like this. Gods, you two have been close…well, you've always been close. You haven't been at war for so long – actually, you've never been estranged this long."

"I'm so exhausted,. Gary." Finally I let my shoulders drop as I gazed down into my lap. "I want it over. If this is a war, I'd surrender already – but we both know that's not how it works."

My words were met only with silence, and it was in this silence that I ploughed on. "I miss the old days, when the only wars we had were ones of chess. I miss not wanting Jon to go for page training. I miss the hour long rides whenever we wanted. I miss it all." I buried my face in my hands, utterly spent by it all – my confessions, my recent relationship with my brother, my reputation about court (not that I really cared too much, but it was still a small factor) – everything. "Life seemed so easy when I faced it with Jon by my side."

Throughout the whole speech Gary had remained silent. Finally he nodded. "Maybe you should tell him all that, instead of telling me."

"I already have," I whispered into my hands, my voice miserable. "Yesterday. I told him that I was too tired, that I wanted it to end. I offered him the white flag. He didn't answer me. He never does anymore." I wasn't startled by the wetness of my palms – in fact, I was surprised I had any tears left. Swiping away what was hopefully the last of them, I rose. "Excuse me."

"Where are you going?" Gary asked, also rising.

"I need to get outside," I replied, my voice trembling. "I need some fresh air. Alone," I added, seeing him open his mouth.

Gary shut his mouth for a moment, then asked delicately, "And if Jon comes here looking for you?"

I shok my head. "Don't tell him, _please_. I'm begging you Gary. It's too soon. Far too soon. I can't – I just-" my voice cracked and I turned away, taking deep breaths. When I had at last composed myself I said, my back still to my cousin, "I need space."

I felt rather than heard Gary come up behind me. His hand grasped my shoulder for a brief moment. "Okay," he said softly.

It was as if his words had been the permission I needed - without looking back I walked out of my room. As I left, I wondered why I felt like I was running from the one place that was supposed to be my sanctuary.

~oOo~

"Ye ridin' alone, Highness?"

At Stefan's question I looked up. The boy, lounging on the side of the stall, eyed me carefully.

"I'm not going to curse you," I snapped, glaring at him. The next moment tears sprang to my eyes and I turned away, focusing on Copperglow's mane. "Oh Goddess Stefan. I'm sorry. I didn't mean – I'm just a bit on edge right now."

"I know ye're not goin' t' harm me," replied Stefan placily, his tone and demeanour somehow making me feel even worse. "I'm jus' concerned for Ye Ladyship. Ye shouldn't rise alone, Highness. No-one should."

I lifted my hands from my horse's mane and reached for the reins, leading Copperglow from the stall and out of the stable, "I do."

~oOo~

As Copperglow picked her way across one of the many trails in the Royal Forest, I let my mind roam, grateful that me new horse was just as calm as my last. From my previous rides on her I knew that while she did have a lively temperament to match my own, she also picked up my moods really well, and right now she seemed to know that it was best to keep to a gentle walk. The small part of my mind that was not unfocused silently thanked George for picking out such a beautiful beast – He may be a thief, but in horsetrading he was as honest as they could come, maybe even more so.

Copperglow halted silently and I was jolted out of my solitude. Looking around, I discovered the reason behind my horse's sudden stop: Whether by accident or design, Copperglow had taken the trail leading to the Royal Gorge. Without thinking I dismounted, walking over to get a better look. I had jumped it once or twice before with Star, but I was never alone. I'd always come here with Jon or similar company in case one of us got into trouble. At the memory, a lump began to form in my throat.

"You shouldn't be here alone."

At the words I jumped, whirling. The speaker stood next to my horse. "She is a very beautiful beast," he remarked.

I swallowed, then greeted the speaker with some difficulty. "H-hello Thom."

The man tilted his head, then walked over to join me. "That's one big hole," he remarked noncommittally, peering down into its depths. "Has anybody ever explored it?" When I didn't reply, he turned back to me. "You seem…high strung. Are you sure you should be here? I mean, I have confidence that you won't jump, but if anybody else knew you were here-"

I kissed him.

The moment I realised what I was doing, I yanked away. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean – Oh Gods, Thom, I'm so very, extremely sorry." Quickly I turned away, almost running to my horse.

I didn't know if Thom called after me. I didn't hear him. I just swung up on my horse – with some difficulty, it had been a while since my last ride – and snatched up the reins. Without looking back – I seemed to be doing that a lot lately – I kicked Copperglow into a canter, fleeing the scene, running from Thom. Running from that kiss.

Running from everything.

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><p><strong>MUAHAHAHAHA :D<strong>

**MOAR CONFUSION AHEAD! I love torturing Willow. *evil smirk***

**And don't worry about the Jon thing, that's all set to resolve itself over the next few chapters.**

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	20. Loving Your Horse

**Short chapter is short. Apologies.**

**Don't really have anything else to say. So yeah. Have fun!**

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><p>I flew back to the stables, blurring past Stefan. I barely noticed him – I was that distracted. Well, who wouldn't be, after doing what I'd done?<p>

"Good t'see ya back safely, Highness."

"What?" I looked up, finally noticing the hostler – he leaned on the stall again, peering at me as I untacked Copperglow, moving on autopilot. "Oh. I wasn't going to do anything stupid," I mumbled.

_Liar._

Stefan looked me over carefully, as if I were one of his beasts. Finally, he nodded, his face expressionless. I couldn't tell if he'd accepted my words or not. I didn't get the time to ask either – Stefan swung around and walked away. I heard his footsteps fade – obviously he was leaving me some much-needed privacy – and sighed in relief, leaning on Copperglow for a moment and burying my face in her mane. Silently I lifted my head and reached for the brush, running it through my horse's coat. Copperglow obviously enjoyed it, and when I was done, surprised me by gently butting me with her head. Looking at her, I managed a small smile even as I felt the first confused lump rise to my throat. "I love you too Copperglow," I replied softly, not caring who might be around to hear me. Reaching forward, I wrapped my arms around her neck in a brief hug, clinging tightly for all of a moment, then let go. "You have no idea how much I love you right now, but I do."

Finally finding the strength to step back, I allowed myself to admire my handiwork. My horse's coat was bright and dust-free after my thorough attention, and her mane was untangled and gleamed in the late afternoon light. Every inch of her glowed with the bright copper shine that I'd named her for. Looking over at me, Copperglow whickered lightly in what I took for pleasure. I forced my smile wider, hastily brushing back a tear. "You're most welcome," I managed.

Then, overcome with emotions that were most definitely not characteristics that I was normally known for, I turned and fled the stables.

There was a moment's silence before soft clumping was heard. Stefan appeared in the stall, carefully refilling Copperglow's feed. "It makes ye wonder just how she copes, eh?" he asked the horse, patting her. ""I wonder meself how she manages to keep movin'." He tilted his head, seeming to listen to Copperglow's soft snuffle, then replied, "Nay, she'll survive. But the survivin' will change her. Wonder what she'll become, eh?"

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><p><strong>Who else wonders the same thing?<strong>

**Love MagicalLeaves**


	21. The Raging Storm

**And here is where Willow falls. Dundundun**

**Two chapters in one night? Yeah, I wrote them earlier. I just need to get the sadness all out of the way in one go, so I was waiting until I wrote it all, then uploading it all at once. So I'm sorry for cluttering inboxes.**

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><p>It was truly funny, how long I could hide from everyone. I had thought I would be missed long before now, but I hadn't even been hunted for. Considering I was the Crown Princess, I was certain that somebody would track me down about the dress or that ball sooner or later. But as the hours passed, I remained the little girl, hiding in her room, from the monsters in the closet.<p>

And nobody came looking for me.

That peace – or rather, cowardice – was interrupted in the late afternoon, in the form of a person that I'd been dreading all day, when the said person knocked once on my open door. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. It could've only been one person. Nevertheless, I only looked up because the person was Thom. _Though he would probably go back to being Lord Thom of Trebond after this was all done and dusted. _With difficulty I set my work aside and rose to greet the man who'd quickly become my friend in the short time we had known eachother.

"Hi." _Oh, great start Willow. Really great start._

"Hi." Thom's reply seemed no better. His violet-eyed gaze was wary as he studied me for a long moment, before finally crossing the threshold to stand in front of me.

"About what happened earlier, I have to explain. You deserve an explanation, even though it won't be a very good one."

"That wasn't very ladylike, what happened earlier," Thom remarked, his eyes straying from mine. "And yes, I think that an explanation is in order."

"Stop. Just stop." I raised hand to chest-height. Confused, he took a step back. _He really had no idea, did he, the effect that his proximity was having on me. Especially now. I needed to get him out of here._ "It's not what you think it was, Thom."

The man paused, tilting his head slightly as he considered my words. "I have no doubt about that," he finally replied. "I'm certain that you're not the type of lady to go around kissing noblemen then running like a thief caught with his hand on a purse. You always have good reasons for what you do."

I laughed miserably. "Oh Thom, how I wish that this reason was good." I shut my eyes, shaking my head briefly. When I had at last regained my composure I opened them again. It took all the strength I had to meet his gaze. "I-I didn't kiss you because I liked you. Well – I mean, it's not that I don't like you – I mean-" again I cut myself off. Again I steadied myself. Finally I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, raising my head again to meet those eyes. "I didn't kiss you for reasons that normally warrant such behaviour. I was stressed, and angry, and you were there-"

"You were angry at Jon. And I happened to be there, a suitable outlet for your frustrations." Thom's voice was matter-of-fact, and I hated it. I hated it because he was right.

Well, he was, so I shut my eyes again. "Yes."

My simple, one word admission was met with dead silence. I buried my face in my hands. "Oh Thom. I trust you. In the short time that we know eachother I've come to see you as one of my best friends. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't – It just happened. I'm sorry." My last words were almost inaudible as my breath hitched, as I battled against the raging storm that was my emotions.

I didn't receive a reply for the longest time. When I finally gathered the strength to raise my head and again meet that violet gaze, the room was empty.

Thom was gone.

I let my head fall back into my hands and let the storm rage free.

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><p><strong>Sorry, but I'm going to rage here now silently about how this is really depressing. ANd then I'm going to grovel and apologise to you all for the depressing-ness. So yeah. I'M SORRYYYYYY.<strong>

**Anyway, I /think/ the depressing-ness is almost over, so yeah.**

**If you liked the writing, please review! If not, tell me how I could change/improve it! Thanks!  
>Also, any spellinggrammar mistakes spotted and pointed out are greatly appreciated. :)**

**Love, **

**MagicalLeaves**


	22. Fumbling On

**Okay. This is the last one for now. I planned on writing more, but it took longer than I expected to transfer everything from paper to computer, so yeah. Hope you like it!**

**A chess game leads to something more...**

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><p>The late afternoon sun seemed to be the only thing that didn't recognize the sobriety of the environment around it as it tumbled haphazardly around the room, tripping into little pools and puddles of gold on the faded carpet, lighting up the dust motes floating around the little-used room. Dancing about, it seemed to pause, hesitating in the middle of the area.<p>

In the middle of the room sat a table.

On that table say a chess game.

At the chess game sat a prince.

Jon toyed with the white king. He didn't seem to notice the motion of his fingers – his gaze was that absent. The afternoon sun seemed to irk him, for he kept shifting to find a better spot where it wouldn't shine into his face, but he couldn't find the strength to get up and draw the curtains.

The pristine, untouched chess game sat at his fingertips, jut begging to be played. Lifting his hand, Jon reached for the kingside pawn.

His fingers shifted to the queenside pawn. Then they shifted back to the kingside pawn. Then they travelled down the row of pawns, there and back.

There and back.

There and back.

Jon returned to toying with his king. His hand closed around the tall carving, his thumb brushing over the tip of the piece. At last his hand tipped the figure gently sideways. The soft thunk of wood on wood seemed to echo throughout the entire room. With a sigh Jon let go of his now downed king, resting his face in his hands. "Things were so much easier when we were younger, weren't they Willow?"

I started when he addressed me. "How long did you know I was there?" I asked, surprised out of my mood for a brief moment.

"I guessed." Jon's muffled voice rose from his fingers. "Gods Will. I don't even know where to begin.

"An apology would be a good start," I responded, my voice hitching at the use of that name, my name.

I didn't know how long I stood there, slowly drowning in the silence that began to build up in the room. Eventually Jon said, "I might mean it now, but what about next week, next month, next year. How long will it be before we get into the same argument? How long before I say something else, or you do something else, and the glass is shattered all over again.

"I don't know Jon." My voice was as muffled as his as I moved into the room. Unable to control the tremor in my tone and hands. "I don't know, but we have to try. I can't just leave it like this Jon. It deserves better than that – Goddess, _we_ deserve better than that. We're not supposed to hate eachother like this Jon. We're supposed to stick together. I don't want this. I never wanted any of this. It's killing me, and I'm too tired of it. Of everything."

There was a long silence before Jon finally lifted his head. I was stunned to see the wetness adorning his cheeks. "I-I'm tired too, Will," he whispered.

I didn't know who broke first. It didn't really matter anyway.

~oOo~

"So what happened?"

"Hmm?"

I looked over quizzically at Jon. He didn't respond except to give my hand a squeeze. I leaned my head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I've missed this," I mumbled, feeling my eyes sting again.

"Me too," Jon replied softly, his arm going around my shoulders almost automatically. There was no more needed to be said about it, or our argument – everything had automatically been forgiven as usual. Thom had been right – in the end, it didn't matter who would approach who, only that it had to be done. Maybe I was the better person for making the first move, but I didn't care who the better person was at that moment. I only cared that it was over.

"Will?"

That name made my eyes sting more. "Stop it, or I'll cry again, and I'm tired of crying," I replied noncommittally. Jon sighed. "You're not answering me," was all he said, prodding me lightly with his elbow.

I sighed softly, turning to look at him. "Everett insulted me at my ball."

"I know that." Jon my gaze steadily. "How exactly did he insult you?"

"Well, not me. I mean…" I trailed off, unsure of what to say. "I told him not to come near me again, but he did that night. He kept insisting on it. He kept wanting to try his hand at winning me, even when it was clear to the whole Court – Goddess, it was probably clear to the whole of Corus – that I hated him."

"And?" Jon prompted.

"I refused him, quite…fiercely." I shut my eyes. "He got angry and he implied…Alex and I…he said…"

Jon's arms tightened around my shoulders, cutting off anything else I had been about to say – not that I needed to say it. Jon understood. I could see that much in his suddenly furious gaze. "I'd challenge him myself if he wasn't all the way on his fief," he growled. Then he suddenly coloured. "Mithros. And then I came back, and we fought, and I said basically the same thing…"

"Jon, don't," I begged, burying my face in his shoulder. "Just don't talk about it. Please. It's done. It happened. That's all. There's nothing to do except…keep going."

I felt Jon heave a sigh before falling silent. "You really would forgive Roger one day, you know," he said, going for humour. He was rewarded with a watery chuckle. Obviously bolstered by that, he asked, "What happened next?"

I looked up at him. "Nobody told you?"

Jon's lips quirked. "After our argument, Gary…yelled."

I stared at him in astonishment. Gary never yelled. Jon, oblivious to my shock, ploughed on. "He scolded me quite…vigorously for my words, saying that if I knew exactly what had happened to you while I was away, I would never have talked about Alex. But he wouldn't tell me what. He said that if I wanted the story, I had to get it from you."

I gulped. "I lost my temper," I confessed.

Jon was silent for a long time before asking, "How bad was it?"

"I almost killed him."

Jon studied me. Finally he said, "Well, I can't say that he didn't deserve it."

"It's not that Jon. I…I hated him. I wanted him to die. I wanted, in that moment, to be the one to kill him. And I enjoyed it, watching him suffer like that." I shuddered, shutting my eyes. "I don't want his blood on my hands Jon, but I think I've already got it."

"If he's alive, then your hands are clean," Jon replied reasonably, "and of course you'd be prone to fits of temper. You're a dark horse." When I blinked at him, he added, "Just look at what you've done in your life. It makes you a far different princess than normal. Needless to say, of course you would clash with others. And of course others would be afraid to try riding you – or even going near you for that matter."

"Like Raoul," I grumbled.

"Hey, now is not the time to feel sorry for yourself." Jon gripped my chin in his fingers, forcing me to look at him. "You just need to learn control. Then he wouldn't be afraid of you."

"I need to learn magic."

Surprise crossed Jon's face. "Since when did you decide that? I thought you didn't like magic."

I rubbed my face wearily. "I don't like Roger," I corrected him. "And I never hated magic…I think I was afraid of it."

Jon slung his arm over my shoulders again. "Well, the first step to getting over a fear is admitting you have one," he said practically. "How are you intending to learn magic?"

"Thom has been teaching me."

This time the silence was long for a different reason. When I shot a look at him, he raised his hands. "I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to," I growled. "And no, nothing is happening."

"But something could happen," Jon prodded. When I shot him another look, I realised in shock that he wasn't teasing me. He was actually serious. "Whether you like him or not is up to you, Will, but admit it: you at least tolerate him."

I opened my mouth to yell at Jon then surrendered without another thought, instead burying my face in his shoulder again.

"It's not so bad, liking someone," he said, chuckling.

"Shut up," I mumbled, my voice muffled. I felt him laugh again, but he said no more on the matter.

We sat there in companiable silence before he spoke again. "So what are you going to do?" When I looked at him, he added, "Will you marry one day?"

"Will you?" I fired back, uncomfortable with this new method of attack.

"I have to," he replied seriously. "I'm going to be King one day, remember? But we're not talking about me."

I scowled – the attempt to turn the tables hadn't worked at all. "If I do, it will be my choice," I replied.

"Really?" Jon eyed me keenly.

"Yes," I said, my flat tone giving little in the way of an argument. "I'm the one getting married. It should be my choice for whoever I'm tying myself to. And yes," I added, glancing at him, "It will be for love."

"You're wasted as a princess," Jon said softly. "You should've just been one of George's people." When my mouth dropped he continued, "You would've been so much freer there than in the palace."

I pushed away the urge to yell at him, now understanding where he was coming from. "Maybe so," I replied, equally soft, "but then nobody would be around to smack you when you got all high and mighty on us poor nobles."

Jon grinned ruefully in acknowledgement. "Touché." He shifted slightly, before asking, "So what _is_ going on between you and Thom?"

When I stiffened, he chuckled. "What, you didn't think I'd left it alone, did you?"

"It's not-" I began, then sighed, looking down in my lap.

Jon was silent for a moment, then spoke again, "Is it that bad?"

"No!" I yelped, then flushed a bright red. "It's not that. I mean, it might be. I don't know." Burying my face in my hands, I mumbled, "I kissed him." In the silence I fumbled on. "You know Willow Gorge, just above Willow Falls?" Without waiting for an answer, I continued blindly. "I was there – I needed a place to think – and he found me there. I don't know how, or why, or-" my breath hitched. "And, I was stressed, and upset, and you and I were fighting, and it all spilled over…"

Jon was silent for a moment before speaking gently. "Does he know?"

I nodded without looking up. "I told him, later." I suddenly lifted my head to look at my brother. "The thing is, I think I _do_ like him. You're right. I think I'm attracted to him. But the moment, the kiss, it was for all the wrong reasons. It was wrong. It wasn't-I don't-" my voice cracked and I looked down again, my shoulders heaving. "And even if I don't like him that way," I whispered, "Thom was my friend, and he deserved better. Jon, he deserved more than what I did to him, and I broke him like that."

Jon made no reply. All he did was put his arms around my shoulders and draw me close. "What do I do, Jon?" I asked, burying my face in his shoulder. "What do I do?"

"You can't do anything." Jon's voice was soft. "You just have to wait."

I had been expecting this answer, but it was still a blow to the stomach to know that I couldn't help. That it was all changed forever. That it could never go back to what it once was.

But, sitting there, leaning on Jon and letting him hold me, I was sure of only one thing: I was glad it was over. I was glad we had gotten over everything.

I was glad that we were brother and sister again.

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><p><strong>One thing down, one to go! Maybe Willow's life won't be so bad after all. :)<strong>

**You know the drill: If you liked it, tell me why! If you didn't, tell me how I can improve! Translation: PLEASE REVIEW! :D  
>As always, if there are any spellinggrammar mistakes that have gone unnoticed, and you point them out to me, thank you!**

**Love,**

**MagicalLeaves**


	23. The House with One Wall

**I have to thank ****As The Robin Flies for his/her most recent review. Yes, in fact, I was writing the next chapter in Thom's POV when you left that lovely review here!**

**Not really much else to say.**

**A walk reveals much information...yet nothing at all...  
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><p>He wasn't coming. I sat alone in my room waiting for someone who wasn't coming. The bell tolled for two hours past noon and he still wasn't coming. I was by myself. Alone.<p>

"Willow?"

I looked up. "Jon. I thought you were otherwise occupied." My voice rose on startled wings, like a bird surprised into flight.

Jon shrugged fluidly, entering my room. "I finished my tasks earlier than I expected." His gaze took in me, sitting there empty-handed, and he frowned. "What are you doing?"

I shrugged back, trying to control the slight tremor in my hands. "At one hour past noon Thom is supposed to help me with my meditation."

Jon sighed patiently, coming to sit next to me on another chair. "You do know he isn't coming, right?" His voice was gentle.

I shook my head stubbornly, even though I knew he was right. "He'll come. He's probably just…distracted. There are a lot of texts in the library, full of things he hasn't yet discovered. He told me that himself."

A moment passed before I sighed, turning in my seat to face Jon. "Yes I know he's not coming. Jon, what am I supposed to do? I'm not ready to meditate by myself, I can't draw a circle. I never learnt how to do that!"

Jon raised a brow at me. "You say that as if Thom is the only person who can help you with your Gift."

"I don't want-" I began, then dropped my head into my hands. "Jon, I don't want…I mean, it seems like if I asked you to help me, that would be replacing him. I don't want to do that. I've done enough." I paused, my breath hitching. "I didn't realise how much our friendship meant to me until I shattered it Jon. I don't have many friends here, and I just went and lost one of the few I had."

"You need to breathe." Jon's voice was quiet. When I looked up at him, he added hastily, "No, you're in control. I just meant…you need air."

I gulped, then continued on, pouring it all out, not caring that my door was open and that anyone could hear me. "Yes, I like him. I care about him. But what I did…It wasn't right, and…Jon, what am I supposed to say? To you? To him?"

Jon stood, offering me a hand. "I don't know," he said quietly. "But I do know that you can't stay here any longer. Come on." When I looked at him quizzically, he said, "I think that a walk would do us both some good."

I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. "Where are we going?" I asked in a childlike manner.

"Outside. I said you needed air. We're going to get some."

~oOo~

As the two pairs of footsteps faded down the hall, the air in Willow's room shimmered lightly, first as if there was a mini heat wave in a chair, then with a faint purple sheen.

With a soft popping noise, Thom appeared in the chair.

The man's eyes drifted over to the doorway, then he leaned over with a sigh. Lifting his hands, he massaged his temples, before rubbing his face.

_Things seemed so much easier before. What in the name of Mithros was going on?_ Groaning in confusion, Thom silently prayed to the gods for answers.

He didn't receive a reply.

With a louder groan he lurched upwards from his chair. Silently he began to pace the length of the room, back and forth. Back and forth.

Back and forth.

_Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I was Alanna. She received word from her patron when she needed it,_ Thom grumbled internally. _Then again, I don't have a patron...__Gods, why was this happening to me  
><em>

The pacing didn't do much except tire him out. Growling, the sorcerer threw himself into his recently vacated chair. Placing his hands on the armrests, he stared at the fireplace and muttered a single word. At his incantation, a flame burst into being.

Thom sat there for a long time, staring into the flames. And despite him being the youngest Master of the Mithran Light in living history, despite the fact that he was obviously a brilliant scholar – if not person – he couldn't for the life of him answer the one question on his mind: _What was he supposed to do now?_

_And where in the name of all the Gods did he and Willow stand?_

Throwing himself upwards again, he barked out a word, his frustration and confusion making his voice harsher than need be. The fire vanished, instantly extinguished. Again Thom resumed his pacing.

Yes, he'd been surprised when Willow had kissed him. He'd been even more surprised – and more than a little hurt – when she'd later sat down with him and explained the reasons behind her actions. Yet, even now as he thought about it, he couldn't help but admire the courage it had taken her, to risk their friendship over the simple truth of the matter. He admired her integrity over situations like this. It was what he had gravitated towards – many a noblewoman at court were of the same, shallow breed, looking only for marriages of high status and interested in only playing the court games to get there.

Willow had been more. Thom had seen past the guarded, careful creature, to the person inside. He'd seen her eagerness to learn, even off him. He'd seen her quick wit, and quiet intelligence. And of course, he'd seen her power – he admitted to himself, right then, that this was one thing that was truly attractive about her. Not her power at court, but rather her power in magic. _She could be a strong mage if she ever turned to sorcery,_ he marvelled. And yet, she'd refused to learn even the most basic of magic on all accounts, and while he was irritated by her stubbornness, another part of him admired that she held herself so firmly to her choices, arguing with anyone and everyone to get her way – even her parents, if need be.

_So what was she now?_

Did that kiss change anything at all? The fact that she had spilled the truth to him proved that her integrity was still there. So why was he so confused about it?

With a grunt, Thom slammed his fist into his palm. All this contemplation and pacing was getting him nowhere. The problem, of course, was that kiss.

The kiss.

Thom shut his eyes as he walked, having now memorized how many steps he took before having to turn around lest he walk into something. He remembered it exactly. He'd felt it – the spark between them. And yes, he'd seen the desperation in her eyes, and confusion before she'd fled. But there had been something underneath all that, something that hadn't been born from stress, or anger, or her past hurts with Jonathan. He'd seen it, even if she hadn't.

And that unnerved him.

Because it couldn't be studied. He couldn't just put that into a box and peer at it, like he'd studied the many artefacts at the City of the Gods. And every day, he kept running into more and more things that couldn't be studied.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway. With a muffled curse Thom turned, frantically throwing himself into his same chair. At a few words he vanished again in a faint purple shine.

Willow and Jon walked back into the room. The girl looked a little calmer now, though she still seemed a little upset. Watching her from his invisible position, Thom wondered what might have happned if she and Jon hadn't resolved their argument. _No doubt she would've shattered sooner or later,_ he mused, uneasy. _After all, Jon was really the only one she could've turned to at the time – Gary and Raoul might not like to admit it, but they were afraid of her when she lost control. And Alex…_ Thom tilted his head slightly in thought. _Well, Alexander of Tirragen had moved on. While she might trust him, he wasn't the best person to go to about kissing others._

Had he been alone in the room, Thom would've snorted at the irony. Willow had seemed very much sought after at Court when he'd first arrived and settled down. It was only as he got to know her that he'd realised what a private creature she was, rather than a social butterfly. She hated court, loathed it even. So, the irony, that as a princess, she was required to survive in an environment that was slowly smothering her, wasn't lost on him.

Speaking cut through his concentration. Startled out of his inner musings, Thom looked up. Willow murmured something else, then leaned over to embrace her brother with a wan smile. Turning, she walked very slowly into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her quietly. Thom was momentarily struck by how fragile she looked, and his heart ached, simply because she looked about as strong as a sheet of glass balanced on a cliff. Silently he wished that things could just go back to normal, if only because she would then have more than one person to lean on – if she was a house, she currently had only one wall on wihch to balance her roof. It wouldn't take much of a breeze to blow everything in. In fact, even as he watched, the stones seemed to be slowly sliding already.

Pushing down everything, he rose noiselessly, and followed Jon from the room. He didn't look back once as he padded down the hallway in Jon's wake. He didn't know what he would've done had he looked back.

"I'm not going to tell her you were there."

"What?" Thom, forgetting he was invisible, spoke at Jon's words. The next moment he winced at his stupidity. The game was obviously up. He broke the spell, looking at Jon as he came into view.

Willow's brother met his eyes calmly. "I'm not going to tell her you were there," he repeated patiently. "If you want her to know, you shall have to tell her yourself."

"H-How did you know I was there?" Thom demanded.

"Because I'm good at reading people. I was wondering when you'd act. And-" Jon smiled wryly. "I would've done the same."

Thom said nothing, his mind racing. "What do I do?" he finally asked, not caring that it was Jon he was asking.

Jon shrugged. "Honestly? No idea. I think that's something you'll have to figure out yourself." Turning, he walked away down the hall.

Thom stood there and cursed fluidly, using words he'd learned from Alanna. Finally spent, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

_If Jonathan didn't know what to do, how in the name of Tortall was he supposed _to_ know?_

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><p><strong>Hope you liked that! <strong>

**So we're now out of the brother-sister feud (I breath a big sigh of relief here because that was hard and depressing to write. I should probably not invest so emotionally in my stories haha), but into something else. Out of the frying pan, and into the fire I say.**

**Please review!**

**Love, **

**MagicalLeaves  
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	24. The Look In Her Eyes

**Wrote this last night, and forgot to upload it. My bad. XD**

**In which some foreshadowing shall be written...**

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><p>The music trickled through the room, a delicate, lilting song to which many were dancing. The lights sparkling from the various spelled orbs seemed to dance too as it wound its way through the crowd. It paused here and there, slipping between a pair of waltzing nobles, then bounced upwards to brush a chandelier before capering after a young page who made his way to a group of sitting nobles, carefully balancing a tray.<p>

I smiled and shook my head politely at the boy as he offered me my pick of the crystal glasses of liquid before turning back to my conversation with my friends. "I hope you enjoyed your stay in Tortall."

"Oh, we most certainly have." The words were accompanied by a genuine smile. I couldn't help smiling back at Teon as he continued to speak. Both Lars and I will be most eager to return when the time comes."

"I look forward to that day, Cousin," I said in Tyran.

For a moment Teon looked taken aback. "I didn't know you spoke Tyran," was all he could manage.

I grinned properly this time. "I'm the Princess of Tortall. I have to learn all the foreign languages."

Teon was silent for a moment. "Your accent is terrible," he finally said, replying to me in his native tongue.

I snorted with laughter. "I know. I think it's because I've grown up speaking Common. My tutor tried to get me to learn the accent, but I could never quite manage it."

Teon was still shaking his head when Lars appeared at his shoulder. "Do you know Her Highness speaks Tyran?" he said, looking up at the new arrival.

"Do you now?" Las enquired of me. "And you never mentioned this? How rude of you." Despite his words, his eyes were twinkling, indicating no true offence had been taken.

I turned to grin into his dancing eyes. "According to your husband – and, for that matter, also my old former tutor – my accent is terrible. I decided not to embarrass myself." I got up to curtsy to the both of them, knowing mischief was also present in my gaze. "I apologise for any offence I may have caused, cousins," I added.

Lars tilted his head, his gaze considering. "You're right Teon," he said suddenly, also switching to his native language. "Her accent _is_ terrible." To me he added, "For the gesture though, thank you."

"That's why I did it," I replied, switching back to my much better sounding Common, all traces of banter gone.

An odd look crossed Teon's face. At my inquiring glance, he said, "This song. It sounds…familiar."

"That might be because it's Tyran," I replied dryly. Rising to my feet, I offered my friend a hand. At his bewildered look, I added, "I haven't finished surprising either of you yet."

"Rest assured, her dancing is far better than her skill at languages." At the new voice we turned – Jon had arrived. He offered a hand to Lars in much the same fashion as I had offered my hand to Teon, a sparkle in his eye – somewhere inside Jon was still the young boy who enjoyed the success that came with a well-thought and executed plan.

Shaking his head as his expression changed to one of disbelief, Teon too rose, placing his hand in mine, as Lars joined Jon.

"You're not jealous, are you Teon?" Lars asked, his voice quiet.

"Why would I be, love?" Teon joked back. "I'm married." Carefully he led me out to the floor, Jon and Lars following in our wake.

"Yes, but between you and me, I think I got the better end of the deal," Lars fired back. I grinned at their easy banter – it would be one of the things I missed the most about them when they returned to Tyra in a few days.

As we began to dance, Teon sighed. "I've missed this," he admitted, his voice wistful as we swirled around.

"I knew you would, being in a foreign land," I replied, completely serious. "Think of it as a farewell gift."

Teon smiled sadly at me. "I do. You're a beautiful person, Willow. It's a pity you're not my type – I would've seriously considered joining the race for your hand."

I stared at him for a moment, my body thankfully remembering the moves that my mind had suddenly blanked on. Teon stared back, and I knew he was only half-joking. It was the half that wasn't joking, however, that stunned me. My body was still on automatic pilot as the dance wound into its final moves, with us finally finishing.

"You really would, would you?" I murmured finally, seeing my wondering gaze reflected in his eyes.

"I repeat, Willow, that you're a beautiful person, both inside and out, though it is the inside that I see as the most important," Teon relied seriously. "I will miss you dearly when Lars and I return to Tyra."

I finally found it in me to smile, storing the revelation away for another time to marvel at, in private. "I haven't known either of you all that long but it already feels like you're family. I will miss you and Lars dearly as well." I made no move to brush my eyes, which had unexpectedly filled at Teon's words.

My friend nodded in reply, his own eyes shiny, the he wrapped his arms around me in an unexpected hug. While momentarily visibly startled at his open display, I recovered quickly to embrace him back. "Teon, no matter what anyone thinks, of you or Lars, you are both amazing people. It was a privilege to meet both of Tyra's fine young ambassadors."

"The feelings are more tha mutual," Teon replied seriously, his voice clear – both of us could be heard by the whole court. "It is with great sorrow that we bd you and all of Tortall farewell. We await our next reunion with great anticipation."

"An anticipation that is likewise shared by Tortall." Jon moved to stand next to me as Lars crossed to Teon. It took only a glance from me to know that Jon was speaking from the heart. "You are welcome in court at any time, Princes Teon and Lars of Tyra: Ambassadors, Cousins, and Friends."

It was then Lars turn to speak, and he did so. "A sentiment that is most certainly shared by Tyra. You are welcome in our courts. We pray that you find the time tograce us with your respective presences in the near future."

Both Jon and I nodded – there was really no need for anything more.

Most of the words were, of course, for show. We'd actually previously planned the exchange – but not the words themselves – in a hope that Jon and I could show a united front and present another change to the Tortallan court. I didn't know if it had worked or not – it might be weeks, or even months before the full effects of Teon and Lars' visit became clear 0 but so far we'd sensed a definite softening of the court towards the princes.

Winding up the discourse was easier than I expected, considering this would be the last time I would se them for a while. The men would travel for Tyra in the morning, fresh with hopefully glowing reports about Tortall and the royal family. After we ended the discussion – with all the formalities as expected – both princes took their leave of the ball that night that had been thrown to farewell the pair. As I watched them leave the room, I felt a pang of sadness. It would be a while before I would get to see them again.

~oOo~

_She seems…happy. At least, I think she does._ The man, whom those thoughts belonged to, tilted his head, his gaze not straying from the young woman in the room. He watched as she conversed with the pair of Tyran princes and ambassadors. Seeing the expression on her face as she watched them leave, he wondered how odd it was that she hated being in court, yet seemed to flourish in that very place if she made the effort. _Then again, it wasn't her attitude that was preventing said flourishing,_ the man mused. _It was the people around her, in the same place._

"Refreshments, my lord?"

Thom looked up at the page, automatically reaching for an offered glass. It was only after the page glided away to another corner of the room that Thom realised he wasn't thirsty. With an almost inaudible sigh he turned slightly in his seat, wondering what he was supposed to do now.

Movement caught his eye. Thom glanced over as the Lady Delia of Eldorne lifted her glass, saluting him as she studied him beneath lowered eyelashes. Thom turned his head away, repressing a shiver. A sniff of the glass in his hand revealed it to be spiced apple juice. _Not poison? Too bad._ Thom shook his head mockingly at his own dismal thought and took a sip from the glass. The cool liquid ran down his throat, soothing him, but doing little else to calm his nerves.

His thoughts drifted again to Delia. While he had no attachment to the woman whatsoever – she was as shallow and ambitious as they come – she _had_ hinted that she knew the location of Duke Roger's manuscripts. Thom was interested in the contents of the late and extremely powerful sorcerer's works. He suspected she was stringing him along for her own amusement, but he still interacted with her in hopes that she'd eventually reveal all…At the thought Thom suddenly scowled, lowering his glass. By Mithros, that was _not_ what he's expected his thoughts to drift to!

"You look in need of company, my lord."

Thom looked up, and inwardly groaned. As if summoned by his thoughts, the lady Delia stood there in front of him. The woman inspected the chair next to him, then delicately sat down. "Surely one such as you wouldn't sit here alone all night."

"Eldorne, if you knew anything about me, then you would know that I prefer solitude over the company of others," Thom replied curtly, in no mood to be polite.

"As blunt as your sister, I see," Delia answered in her throaty voice, making no sign that she'd noticed his hint to leave him alone.

As usual, the mention of Alanna, as if she was better, more skilled, more famous, than he was, irritated Thom. _Would I forever stand in her shadow, known only as Alanna's brother? Surely I was more powerful than that!_ The next moment he thrust away the thought, angry with himself. Why was he being jealous of the only person who ever truly loved him?

Delia cut off his train of thought when she laid a hand on his arm. "I however, unlike the fools around, prefer men of power."

The flirting irked Thom, but for the sake of Duke Roger's scrolls he tolerated Delia, moving only to remove her hand from his arm. The woman again didn't take the hint, only laughing her soft husky laugh and leaning closer. "You are indeed preferable to that…sister of yours." For a brief moment, her nose wrinkled prettily – not that Thom cared at all – before her face smoothed out again. "Much more powerful. But not powerful enough…" he voice trailed off as she sighed in apparent disappointment.

Despite himself, Thom found himself turning to face her, stung by her words. "Not enough?" I'll have you know, Eldorne, that I'm the youngest living Master of the Mithran Light living. I've been asked to safeguard Their Highnesses, Prince Jonathan and Princess Willow of Conté! What more would I need of power?"

Delia shrugged in apparent disinterest, turning away. "There have been more powerful sorcerers," she said dismissively. "Those that could raise the dead, those that could alter life itself and travel to the Peaceful Realms and back. Even Denmarie the Earth-shaker himself would have trouble deciphering His Grace's papers-"

It was the name that did it, the implication that Thom would never be as powerful as some of the true legends. That he would never stand as equals. That alone made Thom snap "I can do anything that Denmarie the Earth-Shaker can do!"

It was only on hearing his voice echo throughout the ballroom that Thom realised how loud he had shouted. Dead silence had fallen among the glittering throng as every eye had turned nervously to his conversation in the corner. Thom looked silently around, slowly scanning the faces in the room.

Amethyst met sapphire.

Thom stared for a moment at his former friend and student, then rose suddenly. He broke eye contact first, turning back to glare at Delia. The woman just smiled at him, almost mockingly.

Thom whirled away and stalked out of the ballroom. He didn't stop walking, and he didn't look back.

It was only in his quarters that he threw himself into his chair, resting his face in his hands with a muffled groan.

He'd seen the look in Willow's eyes. It had been shocked, but not just that.

It had been afraid. Not for what he could do. But for how far he would go.

And somehow, he knew that look in Willow's eyes would haunt him for weeks to come.

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><p><strong>N'aww. Angsty angst is angsty.<strong>

**Anyway, hope you liked it! :)**

**Love, MagicalLeaves  
><strong>


	25. Mapping Stars

**And another chapter. Personally, I think this is a random bit of fluff which is a waste of space, but yeah. I needed to put it in. xD**

**In which research may not only be about books...  
><strong>

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><p>The view stretched out before me, seeming to go for miles. I gazed outwards, trying to pick out the familiar buildings of the Lower City, but I wasn't having much luck – things kept catching my eye. More than once I found my gaze caught by one of the many messenger birds that flew to and from the palace. Frowning, I placed my hands on the rail, leaning out over the balcony in an attempt to get a better position from which to see.<p>

I was a slight thing, so it was to my alarm that the rail creaked somewhat. I took a step back, raising my hands as I eyed the balcony warily.

"It's not safe."

At the voice I turned. Jon leaned in the doorway of Balor's Needle, his expression one of faint amusement as he watched me. After a moment he pushed off the frame, walking out to stand next to me. "This thing is gods know how old. It creaks in the wind."

"If it's not safe, then maybe it should be replaced," I replied, turning to look back out at the horizon.

"It hasn't collapsed yet," my brother replied amiably.

"So you're waiting for it to collapse?" I said, my voice dry. "Must you need a death to stir some action?"

"What I meant was that this balcony has been here ever since it was built. If it hasn't collapsed yet, I doubt it will today, or any time soon." Jon turned to face me. "You don't come up here as often as you used to," he remarked. "Is there anything wrong?"

I shook my head, sighing regretfully. "No. I just haven't had the time."

Jon studied me warily. "Thom's been up here, hasn't he?" he asked abruptly.

I sighed again. "I was never very good at hiding things from you, was I?"

Jon said nothing. He only slid an arm around my shoulders in reply. I leaned on his side automatically, my gaze never leaving the horizon. "We came up here once, to map the stars. Thom said that a great many rituals are performed depending on what moon there is that night, or whether the sky is cloudy or not. It was beautiful, not just because of the many things that he spoke about, but also because of the beauty of the sky and the stars itself. I felt like everything and nothing at all." I frowned. "Does that even make sense?"

"If it makes sense to you, then it makes sense," Jon replied. His odd words made me wrinkle my nose. Ignoring my expression of confusion, he continued on. "Are you going to speak to Thom again?"

I shrugged helplessly. "It just seems…too awkward. And…I don't know whether he's ready to see me."

"You mean you don't know whether you are ready to see him." Jon turned to face me. "It's only awkward if you make it."

I shrugged again. "Jon…what happened that day, it changed our whole friendship. I don't know where to go from here. I don't think I'll ever know."

Jon was silent for a long moment, then dropped his arm. "Enough. This is depressing." He offered me a hand. "Come on. Come beat me at chess."

I smiled wanly. "It's not fun anymore, beating you," I said, half-teasing.

Jon grinned. "Well, then I'll just have to start forcing draws, won't I?" he fired back. I couldn't help smiling properly as we walked back inside.

Hearing footsteps echo, the pair of us slowed and moved aside to make room or whoever was coming up.

Red hair came into view.

Thom passed us on stairs, pausing to look at us. Finally, he nodded politely, a lord greeting two members of the Royal Family, his face blank, then continued on his way.

"Thom, wait."

At my words, the man turned, studying me. Jon had gone ahead, probably to give us some space. As I stared up at the man who had been my friend, I felt my mouth open and shut…but nothing came to mind. "I-I-How's your research going?" I blurted, looking for something to say. I knew that he'd found another project to work on – he was being rather secretive about it – and he'd been spending copious amounts of time in the Royal library.

"The research is going…well," Thom finally replied, his gaze puzzled at my choice of topic.

I opened my mouth again. "Thom, I…" I swallowed, then tried again, intending to apologise.

Thom watched me, expressionless. At last, when it became obvious that I couldn't manage a proper sentence, he turned away, continuing his trek up the stairs.

"I think I like you. I mean-Thom, that kiss, I…It was more than what I said it was right? You…you felt it too?"

The man paused again, and wheeled slowly around. He moved far too slowly – by then I'd fled, clattering down the stairs, my cheeks red flags of embarrassment. _I had not meant to say that! Goddess, what was wrong with me?_

I reached the ground floor – and bumped straight into Jon, who'd been waiting for me at the bottom. He took me in, then raised a brow.

"Don't-don't talk," I begged, seeing him open his mouth. "Just…play chess with me?"

Jon looked me over silently, then slid his hand into mine. "Alright," he said, his voice quiet.

I nodded, trembling, and let him lead me away down the hall.

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><p><strong>Dun dun dun. Another cliffhanger. And of course, everybody knows what Thom is researching, and what he's going to do next...I'm such an evil little git.<br>**

**Yeah...so, even now, looking at it, this chapter annoys me because it seems so empty compared to my other chapters. Oh well. I'll just have to get over it. It does have some useful stuff, but it's mostly just random stuff, so yeah.**

**Reviews are much appreciated! :)**

**~ MagicalLeaves  
><strong>


	26. Not Yet Done

**Oh look, another chapter. I'm on a roll today, because I don't have much to do xD  
>Hope you like it!<strong>

**Warning, slight spoiler for Mastiff is mentioned!  
><strong>

**A family tradition is somewhat interrupted...**

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><p>The room was dark, lit only by the fresh torches adorning the walls. The light of the flames flickered off stone walls. It was deathly silent. In any other place it would have been unnerving. In this place it was not.<p>

In this place were tombs.

At the end of the room, a young woman knelt, running a hand over one of the stone tombs. She paused, looking over the dark stone.

"I see you started without me."

The voice, the only noise in the silent space, made me start. I looked over, a smile crossing my face. "I haven't yet, but another five minutes and I would have."

Jon snorted. "You would've started? With what?"

In answer I gestured to the bucket that was next to the tomb, out of his direct line of sight. Jon grinned in surrender, raising his arms. He moved to set down his own bucket. "Not what you were expecting to do on this fine morning, was it?" he asked cheerfully as he pulled a cloth from his shoulder.

"On the contrary, this is exactly what I was expecting to do," I replied, picking up my own cloth and dipping it into the bucket. The soapy water warmed my hands briefly before I wrung out the material, then carefully ran it over the stone. Jon mirrored my movements. "It is All Hallows Eve, after all, and it's tradition to do this every year."

Jon made no reply, his gaze already focused on his work. In friendly silence we finished one tomb containing a Conté ancestor – I think it was Jasson, a grandfather of several generations, but the stone was hard to read in the light – and moved to the next. "Alysy of Conté," I read aloud from the stone.

"She was a Gallan princess." Jon peered at the tomb over my shoulder. "She married Roger II of Conté-" he pointed at a tomb further down "-but Roger was more interested in affairs than running the kingdom. After she died Roger married again."

"Nice to know the Roger's of the Conté family are all of good repute," I remarked dryly as I carefully washed Queen Alysy's tomb.

Jon only grinned in reply. "Well, you'd like his only son, the Prince Gareth. Gareth was the one who abolished slavery, and he was just four at the time. He had the help from a Provost Dog, though."

"The Mastiff," I replied, smiling wryly - even tohugh I didn't know all my ancestors, I did know some basic histories about Tortall.

Jon continued to talk about the different tombs we cleaned, introducing me to ancestors that I didn't even know we had. Finally I stopped him. "How do you know all these names?" I demanded, a hand on his arm.

Jon shrugged and grinned again. "I was bored, so I came down her one day and learnt them all. A lot of this knowledge is also found in the Royal Libraries. You should learn it – it is your history after all."

I made no reaction to his gentle ribbing other than to elbow his lightly in the chest. Jon dodged me, laughing softly.

We reached the next tomb. Despite the stone being dark and the light dim, I could easily read the name engraved on the headstone: Roger of Conté

Jon's laughter cut off abruptly. We exchanged glances, both of us wary.

"I'll do it," Jon said suddenly. He looked at me. "Just go. I can take it from here."

I shook my head. "No. I'm staying with you." The words gave me the chills – I had no desire to pay respect to Roger's tomb! – but I couldn't leave Jon down here alone, and Roger _was_ family after all. With a sigh I ran the cloth over the headstone. "I wish Roger had just stayed in Carthak," I grumbled. Jon grunted in agreement. The silence became strained as we applied our attentions to the coffin.

It seemed like years before we finished Roger's tomb, but when we had, Jon took a step back, dropping his cloth into his bucket. I did the same. Done with the buckets, Jon scooped up mine. "I'll take these upstairs," he said. Seeing the look on my face, he added, "I won't be a minute."

I sighed, nodding. It wasn't as if the dead would suddenly rise out of their tombs anyway. I shivered momentarily, wondering why that thought had just sent a chill down my spine. "Get a grip," I muttered to myself. "They're just tombs."

"Hello?"

At the voice I yelped, standing up. Blue fire flared as I held up my hands, lighting the space around me. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

There was a long silence before Thom stepped into view, his hands raised.

I sighed, dropping my hands and releasing my Gift. The fire faded, leaving only the torch flames, flickering off the walls. "Hello Thom. What are you doing here?"

Thom stared at me. "Willow. I, uh, could ask the same of you."

I looked away, running a finger over a now-clean tomb – not Roger's of course. "It's All Hallows Eve. The Conté family tombs get cleaned every year as a mark of respect to the spirits of our ancestors." My voice was soft, and gave away nothing of my feelings that were bubbling so close to the surface.

"Oh." Thom was silent for a moment. "I was…researching."

I frowned. "What could you be researching about that would bring you down here?"

Thom shrugged. "It's very arcane, esoteric content. It wouldn't interest you, nor make much sense at all."

His demeanour irritated me. "Well, Master Mage, excuse me for breathing," I snapped, looking up to glare at him for a brief moment.

Thom seemed taken aback by my sudden rise of anger. He blinked, obviously unsure as to what he could say. "You…You're excused?"

"Ugh!" I slammed my palms down on the tomb. "You-You-" Failing to find something useful to say, I settled for glaring at the stone. I was now regretting my moment of weakness with him on Balor's Needle. _Goddess, I was regretting even following Faithful's advice now!_

"I'm sorry."

Thom's quiet apology caught me by surprise. I looked up from the dark stone, my anger startled away. "Wh-What?"

"I'm sorry," Thom repeated. He looked and sounded unsure. "I guess…this, whatever it is…well, it hasn't been easy, for either of us, and I'm probably not helping at all…" He trailed off, looking confused, then suddenly swung around and exited the room. I heard his footsteps echo towards me long after he'd gone.

It seemed like hours before Jon returned, but in reality it was probably only a few minutes. He walked straight over to me. "Willow, did something just happen? I passed Thom on the way, he looked a bit...lost," he added by way of explanation.

"I…I don't know…" I replied slowly, my mind jumbled. "Are we done here?" I asked, still badly confused by everything.

Jon hesitated, his gaze sweeping over the crypt. "Yes. We're done here."

As I followed Jon from the room without looking back, I let myself laugh at the irony of his words. Jon looked at me quizzically, but I made no move to explain myself.

_Yes, I was indeed done with this for another year at least. But I wasn't done with Thom._

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><p><strong>Yes, Mastiff is one of my favourite novels, so I made reference to it as a nod to the amazing story :D<strong>

**Again, reviews are appreciated, as well as any spelling/grammar errors you notice and point out to me!  
><strong>

**Anyway, hope you liked all the confusion. Does anybody know what happens next?**

**DUNDUNDUN STAY TUNED.  
><strong>

**~ MagicalLeaves  
><strong>


	27. About Forgiveness

**Another chapter. If all goes well, I'll finish editing that final chapter I wrote last night and upload that too! Yay for you readers - apart from the fact that I'm spamming your inboxes. Sorry about that!  
><strong>

**It is indeed All Hallows, which means that everyone knows what happens next...What happens after, however, is entirely of my strange mind.**

**This switches back and forth between Willow and Thom's POV, so hopefully it's not too confusing!  
><strong>

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><p>"<em>You're too good for me."<em>

"_Alex?"_

_I moved forward through the room, reaching for his hands. He stepped back, staring at me, and I almost wept at the anguish on his face. "You're too good for me," he repeated._

_We weren't in my quarters anymore. Instead, it was a room I'd never seen before. I stood in the doorway, staring in. The room was spacious, devoid of furniture, with only candles lighting the space. Behind me were catacombs I had never seen before, and somehow I knew we were underground._

"_Alex?"  
>Alex smiled sadly, taking another step back. "Mind your head. The Earth…"<em>

_Then darkness washed over everything, and I knew no more._

I jerked awake, a faint cry still ringing from my lips. Even as I sat up, panting harshly, I felt the ground tremble. Looking around, I wondered what had woken me up at this time.

Suddenly the lamp that I kept lit at night – sometimes I found the need to visit the privy – went out. Confused, I glanced over – there should've been enough oil to keep it burning until early dawn. As I reached for the lamp, it was then I felt it: A creeping chill, so ice-cold and dark. It was accompanied by a sudden feeling of dread, so profound that I heard the whimper echoing throughout the room before I realised that I'd made that sound. The shadows around me suddenly seemed everywhere, and I was suddenly sitting in a room of black nothing. Just as I was reaching for something – I wasn't sure what – the ground shook again. This time I staggered out of bed, looking around frantically.

Light suddenly blazed from the side. I whirled, and felt my mouth drop.

The lamp was lit.

I suddenly realised that the darkness, and the feeling of dread were gone. In its place was nothing, only the sounds of the night: the crickets chirping, the soft noises of a midnight breeze, the padding of a cat wandering underneath my window…

Trembling I swung a cloak around myself and reached for a candle. Lighting it with my Gift, I scooped it up and left my room – I didn't want to go near my lamp again that night. The glow of the soft gold light lit my way as I padded down the hall, finding my way by as much feel as by sight.

The door appeared almost randomly out of the darkness. Without knocking I reached for the handle, turning it. Somehow I knew Jon would be awake.

He was – my older brother sat in an armchair. Similarly, he didn't seem at all surprised to see me, my nightgown rumpled and my hair tousled. He merely nodded at a chair that was next to his. I padded into the room, setting the candle on the mantelpiece and curling up in the plush fabric. "What was that?" I finally whispered, my voice soft and fearful in the night.

"I don't know," Jon replied, his voice equally soft. He rose briefly to speak to the fireplace. The next moment, flames flickered into being, crackling cheerfully on the logs. I said nothing as he settled back down next to me, letting the warmth wash over me like an ocean wave. Without a word I held out my hand.

Jon's fingers curled into mine, and we said nothing more, just sat there in our pair for the remainder of the night.

Watching. Waiting.

Wondering.

I was woken by the dawn light, which brushed my face cheerfully in the morning. Blinking sleepily, I realised I had gone to sleep in the chair. With a soft groan I tipped out of the chair, stretching my back in a most satisfying manner. A glance at the fireplace revealed that my candle was out, while Jon's fire was down to its last embers. Kneeling, I took a poker and stirred the ashes, then, with some difficulty, I placed another log on top.

Jon stirred in his seat, his eyes fluttering open. "The Earth…" He shook his head, then seemed to realise where he was. With a soft sigh he too rose from the chair, stretching carefully and wincing.

I was glad that my position in front of the embers meant that he couldn't see my face – Jon's words were the same as in my dream. I didn't wish to explore it, and I had no desire to find out whether or not my dreams were real. "It was just a dream," I said aloud, more to myself than to Jon.

I heard him grunt – whether in response or agreement I didn't know. I didn't want to find out either.

~oOo~

The late afternoon sun was warm and soothing. Sitting in my room, basking in the rays that shone through my window, I could almost forget the terror of last night.

Almost.

With a soft groan at last night, I looked back down at the object of my attention: my globe of pale green crystal, sitting cupped in my hands. With a soft sigh I cleared my mind, uttering the required words.

I didn't really have an objective in mind when it came to scrying. Mostly I looked for Alanna. In fact, it was surprising how naturally the scrying came to me, and it was currently the only way I could exercise my Gift alone without fear of damaging anything – while Jon was teaching me some basics, I was still wary of doing anything just learnt alone. I just couldn't trust that the palace would still be kept standing, especially after Thom's statement that I had the strength to knock it down.

A room of stone. A gold altar. A red-haired figure kneeling in front of it.

The globe slipped from my hands in my surprise. I gazed down at it, confused, then let a sigh slip from my lips. Of course I would see Thom in the crystal. My thoughts had been about him, after all.

_Befriend the friendless, Willow._

At Faithful's words, which seemed to rise mockingly through the air, I cursed softly under my breath and rose. My door I locked behind me, and alone I padded down the hallway.

_Faithful was right. Even if our friendship had been forever changed, I still had to fight for it._

~oOo~

"Mithros, Goddess, forgive me for what I've wrought. Goddess, have mercy on her, she has been through much already. Guide my way. Tell me what I should've done." The man's voice hitched lightly as he spoke, his words the only noise in the deserted room. The altar seemed to gleam before him mockingly, and as usual the gods didn't reply.

_As if I'd get a reply. The gods turned their faces from me long, long ago._ His breathing hitched again, and his hands trembled slightly. With a gasp he shook his head, fighting to regain his composure. "Help me."

"Thom?"

~oOo~

"Thom?" Even as I spoke, I studied the figure before the altar: the back to me, the shoulders hunched and bowed, the constant tremor that ran over his body.

At my voice he started, spinning round to stare at me. "Who-What-Willow?" Thom's eyes were wide and bloodshot. His hands trembled.

I moved forward, everything forgotten as I stretched out my hands. "Thom, you look awful. What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing," Thom stammered, shaking his head. "I'm fine. Perfectly fine. It's just-the experiments-well, they were exhausting."

"What are you doing here?" My gesture took in the whole hall. "Surely there are better places to rest?" I took another step closer, my movements careful – Thom was eyeing me like a startled deer, and I didn't want to frighten him anymore than he already was.

Thom took a step back, and another, until he was backed against the altar. "I needed to be here. To think," he whispered. He was swaying lightly.

"Thom, if your experiments have exhausted you that much, you really shouldn't be here. You need rest." I reached for him again, but he pulled away. I swallowed, fighting my fear and dread. "What were you doing? Why were you asking the gods for forgiveness?" When he didn't reply, I ploughed on. "Thom, _what have you done_?"

~oOo~

_What have you done?_

The words rippled through me. I stared at her, at the fear in her eyes, at her hands reaching towards mine.

It would be so easy to just take her hands, and bare my heart to her. It would be so easy to tell her just what I had been doing, that had made the ground shake. It would be all too easy to shatter her world.

"Goddess." My eyes slid shut, and turned away from her again, kneeling again in front of the altar. Hoping she'd go away. "Goddess, please. Anything but this." Part of me knew Willow was listening, that she could hear me, but I didn't care. "Goddess, gods, whoever is listening, please. Forgive me." My voice wavered on the last words, and choked off in a sob.

"Thom?"

The warmth of a body appeared as Willow knelt next to me. I started as she touched my shoulder, her hand gentle. "What's wrong? Why do you need the Goddess to forgive you?"

There was kindness in her eyes, and concern. Fear, for what was happening to me, and she had no idea what I'd done.

She was so close and I had to tell her.

I leaned up to kiss her, cupping her chin in my hands. I ignored her soft gasp of surprise, or the way her lips opened under mine like a flower. At last I tore away, my breathing even more ragged than before, still staring at her. She stared back, confusion and emotion flooding her face.

Staring at her, reading the expression she gave me, I couldn't help the bitter laugh that suddenly rose to my lips. "Why do I ask the Goddess for forgiveness? Not just her. Mithros, Goddess, Black God, the Trickster, Wave Walker, each and every one of them. All of them." I let the rising sob shake through me. "Gods forgive me, Willow, because after this I know you never will."

Lurching to my feet, I staggered away from her. I'd said too much already. I ran for the exit, for escape.

I ran from her.

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><p><strong>So, a bittersweet ending for the pair...Something wicked this way comes...<strong>

**Cute and sad moment, possibly also one of my favourite cute moments :)**

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	28. The Man Who Raised Him

**Ugh. Sorry for my absence. Uni suddenly piled a whole lot of work on me and I've been struggling. Anyway, I have indeed been writing while gone. I just haven't found the time to upload any of it. So, without further ado, here's another chapter.**

**Unfortunately it is another angsty one. Sorry!**

**Willow learns of Thom's betrayal...**

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><p>I staggered into my room, my tears blurring my vision. My breath tore out of my throat in long ragged gasps. At a wave of my hand, my door swung shut, locking itself. Finally I threw myself into my bedroom, burying myself in the covers. Even as I wept the memory played itself out in my mind…<p>

_The silence. The horrified whispering that would've risen slowly to a roar of sound had a voice not cut through right then. A voice I knew. A voice I had heard many times._

_Thom's voice._

"_Your Majesties, Your Highnesses. Lords and Ladies, Sir Knights, Pages, Squires, and many others of the Court. I present to you, the results of my experiments…The late Roger of Conté."_

_It was only when he'd finished talking that the budding murmur rose into a roar, as Roger approached to bow to the four of us. Darkness swept over me and I sagged in my seat. When I could see again, I heard shouting, and realised that the queen had too collapsed, probably out of shock. I thrust myself out of my seat. "Out of my way!" I yelled. Kneeling beside my mother, I checked her. Her pulse was flickering and her eyelids fluttered weakly. "Get her out of here," I said, my voice trembling. I sensed movement on either side of me as servants came, bearing a stretcher. A small, detached part of me was surprised at how quickly and well prepared the servants were as they loaded my mother onto the stretcher and bore her away, bound for the infirmary._

_That task done, I no longer had an invalid to distract myself with. I was forced to focus on the glaring issue at hand. _

_Shaking, I turned to face Roger, and the man who'd raised him. Thom met my eyes for only a brief moment before he looked away, instead looking towards my father. He wouldn't even look at me._

"_Get them out." While I was not king, my voice still cut through the crowd. "Now."_

_Roger bowed to me, mockingly, and I fought back a shudder. It was only then I realised that Jon was beside me, gripping my hand – whether to support me or to draw strength from me I couldn't tell. I swallowed as I watched Roger trail Thom out of the room, then dropped Jon's hand. "I-I have to-"_

_I didn't finish my sentence. I just ran from the room, ignoring the startled murmurs and the shouting._

And as the last wisps of memory danced through my mind, I screamed in fury, and confusion, and pain. "Faithful, why? Why did you ask me to do this?" _Why ask me to befriend someone who would later betray all of us? How could I put my faith in not one man who broke my heart, but two? How could this happen to me?_

_Thom was right, when I saw him last,_ I realised, as I lay there, tears still flooding down my cheeks. _I could not, would not, forgive him for this._

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it :)<strong>

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	29. Last Words

**Oh, another chapter. **

**I don't really know what else to write here, so I might sa well leave off now.**

**Queen Lianne gives her daghter some much needed advice...**

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><p>Mother never got over her shock of seeing her nephew and would-be murderer again. Her health faltered over Midwinter, and she spent most of the early Spring in bed. One day she called me to her side.<p>

I sat next to her, alone in her room, and took her hand. "Hello Mother," I whispered, already fighting my tears as I took in her emancipated state.

She smiled wearily at me. "Hello, Willow. Do you know why you're here?"

I shook my head, my throat one big lump. She squeezed my hand. "Have you given any thought to your future?"

"You mean marriage? No, Mother."

She nodded. "I suspected as much. You need to marry."

"What? Why? Can't Jon-"

"It is not about the crown, Willow. It is about you." Shocked into silence, I stared at her. She carefully raised herself on her pillows to look at me better. "Do not wait too long, daughter. Otherwise you will be old and lonely. And despite all your words and your actions, you do not want that for yourself, any more than I want that for you."

I found the strength to nod mutely. "I thought, I mean, Thom," I began hesitantly, "but he…"

"Ah, the Master Lord Thom of Trebond? I thought I spotted something there. It is good to know that my mother's intuition is still perfectly functional." My mother was smiling gently. "If you wish to pursue that…"

"But-what he's done-" I blurted out.

"Do you love him?"

The question caught me by surprise. I stared at her for a moment, then buried my face in my hands. "I don't know, Mother. He was a good friend, and yes, there was something there…I just don't know how I'd be able to look at him after now."

"There was something? So, there isn't anymore?" Lianne wanted to know.

I looked at her again. "There is still something," I admitted, meeting her gaze. "I'm just…I don't want to…"

Mother gripped my hand with a strength that was surprising. "Do not let fear stop you from following your heart," she whispered. "If there is something there that is good and wholesome, then chase it, for it will triumph over everything else in the end." After speaking, she sank back onto her pillows again, looking exhausted. Carefully I brushed her head with my fingers and my Gift. I was frightened by what I saw – her light was fading slowly over time. I knew it wouldn't be long now.

"Mother…I…." I stared at her, at a loss for words.

She only smiled gently. "I know. I love you too. And heed my words. You were always more my daughter anyway," she sighed softly, "love was more important to you than diplomatic treaties. So follow your heart, and the rest will sort itself out…"

Her eyes closed. I held her hand for a little while longer, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I love you, Mother," I whispered, feeling the first tears begin to fall. Letting go of her hand, I rose and left, shutting the door silently behind me.

The next morning I was woken by Duke Baird knocking at the door.

Mother was gone.

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><p><strong>D':<strong>

**I didn't have the energy or motivation to elaborate on this, for obvious reasons. Hope it was up to everybody's standards.**

**~ MagicalLeaves**


	30. In Front of Him

**And another chapter. I intend to shove all the depression out of the way this week, then I can focus on less sad stuff over the Easter break. Yay for me. XD**

**Anyway, any recognisable stuff is from the relevant chapter from Lioness Rampant (I forgot which chapter). So stuff like the setting, any recognisable dialogue...yeah, it's not mine. :P**

**Enjoy.**

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><p>We stood beside our mother's coffin, me gazing down at her face. After all the struggles she'd been through – the Sweating Sickness, the harsh winters, Roger rising – her face was finally peaceful, as if she slept.<p>

As if her spirit finally was at rest.

"She was not strong." Roger stood on the opposite side of the coffin, his face emotionless. "Her time had come."

I did not look up or respond to Roger's comment, knowing if I did I would probably scream at him. I had not wanted him to come with us, but there wasn't really anything I could say to stop him, as he was family too.

_How could he stand there and be so calm on things? How _dare_ he be even allowed to stand there with us?_

Trying vainly to swallow my emotions, I turned, leaning on Jon as I buried my face in his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me, his gaze lifting up to meet Roger's face. "She was healthy once, before you sent the Sweating Sickness. Before you tried to kill her with your spells." His voice was tired, no doubt as tired as his eyes.

"That was another lifetime for me," Roger replied quietly. "I have no magic," our cousin continued. "I did not kill her."

I lifted my head briefly, but I still couldn't meet Roger's eyes. I caught a glimpse of Thom, a shadow by the man's side, and felt a rush of…something. I wasn't sure what. _I could probably handle Roger here, for a while at least, but Thom…_ Quickly I turned away again.

"I know you didn't," Jon said, his voice quiet. We fell again into a soft silence, the silence that accompanies death.

Finally I let go of Jon's hand, stepping forward. Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to Mother's forehead. She didn't stir. _She didn't, the last time I did that either,_ I realised, feeling a rush of pain. I swallowed, furiously blinking back tears – I would cry more later, in private, but I would _not_ cry here.

Not in front of them. Not in front of _him_.

_Are you talking about Roger, or Thom?_ A voice that sounded suspiciously like Faithful asked me.

Turning, I walked out of the room, leaving the three men to their vigil. I didn't know the answer to that question.

I didn't want to know.

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><p><strong>Of course Willow doesn't want to know, because Willow deep down knows the answer. Or does she?<strong>

**To those who think this is good enough to be subscribed to: Sorry again for the email spam!**

**For now, this is the last of the depressing Mother-death stuff. It's not over though, everybody who's read the series knows that Jon didn't lose one parent, but two.**

**But I haven't finished that yet. So yeah. I'll see you all around.**

**If I don't post by the time it's Easter, then Happy Easter in advance, and keep safe over the break! :)**

**Love from MagicalLeaves**


	31. The Only One to Trust

**More angst. Sorry about that. I've been less active than I thought I'd be! Apologies!**

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><p>I looked terrible in black.<p>

There was no other way to put it. I looked absolutely horrendous in black. The only reason I was wearing it was because it was mourning colours. I could've worn lavender, or grey, but the problem was that my only lavender dress was being washed and well…I didn't have any grey, as it appeared that my last dress was too small. As I plucked at my skirt, cursing softly to myself, I wished I didn't have to go out today.

But I had to go out today. Jon had a meeting of some sort and he'd requested me to come. _He probably didn't want to be bored,_ I mused as I dragged a brush through my hair. Eventually I could stall no longer and, sighing heavily, I made my way outside and headed down the hall.

~oOo~

"I still can't believe you made me sit through _that_."

Jon turned to me, sighing. "You have to do it eventually."

"Not if I'm not Queen," I responded. Now out of the meeting, I undid the band on my hair, letting it hang down free. Sighing, I rounded the corner, Jon by my side. "This is your job. Well, it was Father's, but…" I trailed off for a moment, blinking quickly, then forced myself on. "It's your job now, is what I meant."

"You have to learn responsibility." Jon turned to face me. "You should at least have an idea of what goes on in these meetings. You're Princess – it's your realm too."

"I wish you weren't right all the time," I muttered, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle out of my skirt.

Jon caught my hand. "It looks fine."

I scowled. "I hate black."

"Where's your purple dress? Lavender is a mourning colour."

"I wore it last week."

"Oh." Jon was silent for a moment. "You could've at least tried your grey-"

"Do you have any idea how long I've had that particular gown, Jon?" I asked. "It's far too small now."

Jon finally shut up, his face thoughtful. "Surely that can't be your only mourning clothes," he said eventually.

"Actually…" I went pink. "They are."

Jon stopped to stare at me. "You have two dresses." It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded anyway. "You, the Princess of Tortall, have an army of seamstresses at hand, and your pick of any fabric in our realm, and you only have two dresses to show for it." A grin crossed his face.

I couldn't help it – I smiled ruefully. "Fine, I'll go get fitted again," I relented.

"Finally," Jon sighed. I got fitted as little as possible. I had little interest in pretty gowns, and preferred practical clothing. As such all my dresses were simple rather than complex, with the only elaborate additions showing through in the embroidery or little details rather than the whole garment.

We continued walking in silence. "Do you really think this looks okay?" I suddenly asked him.

"Why?" Jon wanted to know. "Are you trying to impress someone?"

The jab produced a scowl, as he'd known I would. "No. I just don't want to walk among the Court looking like a fool."

"Then you look fine. Elegant, really," Jon replied patiently.  
>"Liar," I sighed. "The black makes me look pale."<p>

Jon stopped again, looking me over. "You're right," he mused, rather to my surprise. "It does. This is why you need to wear another colour."

"I don't have any other colours."

"This is why you need to be fitted for gowns more often then."

"Alright Jon," I exclaimed. "Alright! I'll get fitted. I get the message, thank you Brother Dearest!"

Jon only grinned triumphantly in reply. Stirred by the grin, I added, "If it's really that important to you, I'll get fitted now."

"Come on then," Jon said. He looped his arm through mine. "You'll need the company."

~oOo~

The rustling continued as the lady bustled around me. "How many pins do you have to use? I have to take this off later, remember?" I demanded.

"Willow stop complaining. You were the one that agreed to this, remember?"

I craned my head over the seamstress so I could glare at my brother. "If I'd known it would be this much trouble I would've reconsidered!" Jon grinned, his expression brightening in amusement.

After some more fussing and flapping, the woman finally stepped aside. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning to face Jon. "Well?"

Jon surveyed me, an odd look on his face. "What?" I demanded.

"Unpin the skirt," Jon told the woman. She obeyed, then Jon turned back to me. He raised a finger in the air and twirled it once. I obeyed, enjoying the rustle of the fabric as it swished with me – despite the fact that I disliked fittings, I did enjoy new gowns. Once I had turned once, I faced him again. "Well?" I repeated.

Jon nodded slowly. "It looks good," he said simply.

I turned to look in the full-length mirror that the seamstress had somehow bought with her and stilled. The dress was a soft dove-grey of the finest silk, and fitted my slim frame perfectly. In fact, it was such a perfect fit that I worried about taking it off. Around the seam was a thin gold stripe, and along the hem gold thread had been embroidered in delicate signs for peace and memory. It was a perfect dress for mourning.

Finally I turned back to the woman, who was watching me expectantly. "Thank you," I said, the softness in my voice conveying my emotions. She curtsied to me deeply, not replying.

"You're satisfied?" When I nodded at Jon, he grinned. "That's a surprise. You were always a real girl when it came to your clothes." Had I not been wearing the new garment I would've thrown a cushion at him. As it was I was trapped in my own gown. Shooting my annoying brother a scowl, I turned to enter my bedroom where I could change, the seamstress following in my wake.

With my fittings complete, Jon and I looked elsewhere for amusement, and – let's face it – distraction. Our somewhat desperate hunt took us to the library, and then the stables. Unfortunately we could only ride for so long before people came looking for us – we were the heirs after all. After assuring said people of our safety and wellbeing, we escaped yet again, this time to a very old room to play a very old game.

"Check."

I sighed, tilting my head sideways for a moment. Eventually I reached for my knight. "Not anymore."

Jon quirked his lips ruefully as I took his bishop. In retaliation he moved in on my rook.

I studied the board again, and was still studying it when a knock interrupted my concentration. We exchanged glances, surprised – we hadn't been without contact that long, and the whole palace knew where we were. Rising, Jon crossed to open the door as I refocused on the game.

"Cousin."

My hand slipped and I knocked my king over. With a grimace I scooped the wooden piece up again, gently setting it in its original position, then rose to greet my 'lovely' cousin. "Roger."

"Princess." Roger bowed to me. I fought down bile.

Thankfully, after we exchanged greetings, Roger turned his attention back to Jon. "Uncle wishes to know if you two are available for lunch."

_How dare he think he even has the right to use that title for Father?_ Trembling slightly, I turned back to the chess set, and began to pack it away. The game was obviously over.

Even with my attention on other things, I could feel Jon's tension. "We…are indeed available," finally he said, reluctantly.

"Excellent. I shall pass the message onto Uncle. I, however, won't be going – I have research that requires my attention." Roger turned to me again. "Cousin," he said, bowing to me again.

"Don't call me that." The words were out before I could stop them. Trembling openly, I met his gaze, my lips now pressed so tightly together they hurt.

The silence was long and hard, but I refused to look away. Eventually it was Roger who broke the staring contest, bowing again and turning away without further comment.

Shaking, I listened as his footsteps echoed down the hall, fading with the distance. At last Jon turned to me. I thought he would make a comment of some sort, but he just sighed softly.

"How can you just stand there and chat to him?" I whispered.

"Because I have to." Jon crossed the room to put his arms around me. "I hate him too," he admitted, leaning into me, even as I leaned into him. There was no more to say. There was really nothing that needed to be said. Instead, I shut my eyes and tried to imagine a world where nothing bad had happened, when Roger was still dead and I was still friends with Thom and Alex and I were still close and the Tusaine War hadn't happened and Delia didn't exist and neither did Josiane and-

In Jon's arms I pressed my face into his shoulder and finally let myself go, in the company of the one person I could fully trust.

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><p><strong>:'(<strong>

**Hope you liked it.**

**Love, MagicalLeaves**


	32. Looking Down

**Hello again. Hope everybody has been well!**

**Not really sure how this will go down. I don't think it's one of my best pieces, but again, it was the subject matter that made it hard for me. Anyway, hope you like it.**

**Willow again sees something that flips her world upside-down...**

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><p>"That was rude, what you did to Father at lunch."<p>

Startled out of my concentration, I looked up. My older brother leaned on my doorframe, his gaze on me in my chair.

With a sigh I turned my focus back to the pale green globe in my hands. "I was being no more rude then him," I replied flatly. "He needs to get back to work."

"He just lost his wife," Jon said, his voice quiet. "You didn't need to call him helpless about it. He would've gone back to the kingdom eventually."

"And we both lost our mother, Jon, but we have to keep moving! We dont have 'eventually'. We have to show a brave face to Tortall, because they're looking to us to lead, you know that!" I rubbed my head. "Look, Jon, I'm sorry I lost my temper. I shouldn't have said those things to Father, but I did, and it's done. Frankly, I think somebody had to say them, and get him to act. And since you weren't going to, I figured that it might as well be me."

Jon sighed. Moving into the room, he sat down in a chair next to me. "What are you doing anyway?" he asked me, apparently dropping the subject.

"Scrying," I replied absently, "but I'm not too good with the noise in the room."

Jon caught the hint, hushing. At least, I thought he had caught the hint, until- "I forgot you could scry. How long did it take you to learn?"

Losing my focus, I looked up to glare at him. "It took a shorter amount of time to learn how to tie tongues in a knot, which I _will_ do to you if you don't be quiet! Godess, Jon, for once could you just respect my wishes and _hold your tongue_?"

Jon had opened his mouth to reply when a flicker in my emerald globe caught my gaze. I swung away, leaning forward, my annoying brother quite forgotten. I barely noticed Jon leaning closer to try and catch a glimpse of what I'd seen - which he wouldn't be able to, as I hadn't included him in the spell.

Trees. A horse trail. A clearing. I recognised the scenery of Willow Gorge, the gorge not too far away from Willow Falls, after which I'd been named. Curious, I leaned closer, watching as the gorge approached. _What was so fascinating about this place that it was appearing here and now?_

The answer became all too clear as the edge of the gorge came into view, and suddenly I could look down and down and down...

The globe slipped from my fingers. I didn't wait for it to hit the ground, only lurching upwards.

"Willow?" I heard Jon ask as I scrambled for my room. I didn't reply, only shutting my door and fumbling around. When I finally opened the door again, I almost brained Jon on the other side. I didn't stop to apologise, barely registering that he held my green crystal in his hand, having caught it when I'd let it fall. "Will?" His startled shout chased me out of my room as I raced past, clad now in a shirt and breeches.

Normally the journey to the stables would take ten to fifteen minutes, depending on where I was in the castle and how fast I was walking. Today it took me five. Stefan looked up in startled surprise as I blurred past him. "Yer Highness? Is everything alright?" I heard him ask, as I threw my saddle and bridle onto Copperglow. I made no reply, only leading my startled horse from her stall. Terror and shock gave me all the energy needed to swing into the saddle.

"Wait!" Jon had finally caught up. My older brother was doubled over next to the stable doors, his hands on his knees. "Wait," he panted. "Five minutes. Just give me five minutes, and then I can come with you. Mithros, Willow, what's going on that you're in such a hurry? _What did you see?_"

_What did you see?_ The words echoed through me, telling me just how hollow I was feeling. I didn't reply. I couldn't reply. There was no time to reply. _I didn't have five minutes._ There was only his shout as I kicked Copperfpglow into a desperate gallop, pointing her at the trees of the Royal Forest.

"WILL!"

The trees blurred a messy green as I flew past. I didn't worry about a branch knocking me from the saddle. All I did was bury my head in Copperglow's mane and trust that she would see me to the finish safely.

She did. In fact, we were going do fast that when she finally halted in the clearing, I was almost thrown over her head. With a yelp I clung to her mane, managing to stay mounted. Leaning forward, I kissed my horse swiftly, thanking her and the gods that I hadn't gotten injured. Then, my palms suddenly sweaty, I dismounted and walked over to the gorge. The walk to the edge seemed to take years, and it was with a furiously beating heart that I reached the edge and looked down...

Voices, the tones urgent, entered my world. There was shouting before somebody shook my shoulders. Then- "Mithros, Ruler of All."

The voice was Jon's.

~oOo~

It took the combined efforts of Jon, Gary, and Raoul to get me to turn away from the gorge, and the dreadful sight of my father's broken body underneath the equally broken body of his horse, but they couldn't get me to move from the place. Despite all their pleas and begging, I refused to budge.

That was, until, the arrival of a very old and dear friend.

I sensed rather than saw Jon turn to the new arrival. "What? How-" I heard him say, obviously bewildered.

"Master Lord Thom sent me," came the reply, the tone flat. "He said that Willow was here, and needed help."

_That voice..._

I looked up as a pair of grey eyes came into view. "Hey Willow," Alex said quietly.

"Hi," I replied, my voice equally soft.

"How are you?" Alex asked, his sitting down in front of me (at some point - I couldn't remember when - I'd sat down on the grass with no regard at all for my clothes).

I didn't reply except to lift my shoulders in a shrug.

Alex sighed softly. "Okay," he replied. We sat there for a while before I finally said, "Alex, he's down in the gorge."

A flicker of emotion passed over my friend's face before he said, "Yes, yes he is." He paused, studying me, before adding, "Do you want to go inside?"

I shook my head. "But he's down there. We can't leave him down there." My breath hitched as I spoke.

"We won't be leaving him down there alone." Alex's voice was gentle. "He'll have Jon, Gary, and Raoul to look after him, alright? So, I promise that he won't be left alone. Do you want to go inside now?"

I looked up at him, and finally reached for his hand. "Okay," I said, my voice small. "I'll go inside with you."

Alex pulled me to my feet, then, wrapping an arm around me in a hug, he led me away from the horrible scene.

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><p><strong>So yeah. I hoped that lived up to the past stuff. We're coming to the end of this particular story, and I shall be starting partbook/whatever-I'm-supposed-to-call-it 4 soon. Again, depressing stuff, but it had to be done. The only good thing abOu it for me was the lovely/sad bit at the end. Yeah.**

**Anyway, read and review, and I'll see you at the finish line of this part of the race.**

**Love, MagicalLeaves.**


	33. The Stupid Scholarly Sorceror

**This is the last chapter for Willow: The Sapling. Hope you've enjoyed the ride so far. We're almost at the finish line of this all! Hopefully you've enjoyed it, and thank you so much for sticking with this and me for so long!**

**Not really sure what else to say, so read away now. I'm very grateful for your attention to this story. Without your reviews and pointers I would have lost interest in this a long time ago.**

**Alex tries to teach Thom that there is more than one type of intelligence...**

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><p>"Would you like something to eat, or drink?"<p>

Silence.

"Not even some water?"

More silence.

"Come on, you can't sit there all day and do nothing."

"Why not?"

At my question, I finally looked up to meet Jon's gaze. Whatever he saw in my eyes made him bite his lip. I continued on, my voice flat. "Jon, I appreciate your concern. In fact-" at this I looked at the other two men in the room "- Gary, Alex, the same goes for both of you. But really, I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

At the new voice, the three of us looked up. The new arrival was in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe. His gaze found mine.

"You." I at last found my voice. I rose, staring at the man in the doorway – the man I, at least, deemed at fault for all of this. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Thom moved into the room to stand before me. "You're not fine. You're not okay," he repeated simply, ignoring my question.

"Of course I'm not okay. How could I be okay after what had happened...after what _you_ have done? This...this is your fault." Gary moved to do something – probably hold me back – but I spoke on, regardless of him, or Jon, or Alex. "If you hadn't raised Roger, none of this would've happened. Mother wouldn't have died, and Father wouldn't have...he would still be alive! _You!_ You're responsible for it all!"

"I am," Thom said simply.

The sound of hand on cheek echoed throughout the room. Thom didn't react to the slap. He only held my gaze as a red handprint began to blossom on his face.

With a snarl of frustrating I raised my hand again, then slammed it onto his chest. I let my head fall, taking deep, gulping breaths – which, despite my efforts, didn't seem to help me feel any better at all. _Whoever said breathing helps...lied._

"Get out." My breath hitched, but the words were clear despite it.

I sensed Thom studying me for a long, long time. At last, I heard footsteps, followed by the soft clicking of my door.

In the long silence that followed, I turned to my brother. "Jon?"

"Yes Will?" my older brother asked carefully.

I swallowed, feeling the first tears beginning to fall. "I'm not okay, Jon," I whispered, aware of the others in the room, and not caring one bit.

"Okay," Jon replied cautiously.

"I-I think I need a hug."

~oOo~

"Hey."

Thom ignored my voice as it echoed down the hall after him.

Annoyance prickled me and made my next shout louder than necessary. "Master Lord Thom!"

There was no way the man couldn't not answer that. The copper-haired sorcerer halted, then turned slowly. "Sir Alexander." His voice was polite. Too polite.

"Are you just going to walk away?" I demanded hotly.

Thom appeared to consider my words for a long while. Just when I was about to scream with frustration he answered. "That seems to be what I am doing right now," he replied, his expression gaining a measure of puzzlement.

"So, you're forfeiting any and all relationships you've had with Willow, over something like this?" I wanted to know.

Thom mulled over my question, then finally said, "I think I gave that up a long time ago with my 'Roger trick'." His words were bitter and biting. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"I'm not yet through with you," I snapped, grabbing his arm. "She needs her friends right now, Lord Thom. You happen to be one of them."

The man looked down at my grip slowly. Raising a brow at me, he calmly pulled himself free. "I think that the shock of witnessing what you had at the gorge today has affected your mind," he replied, his voice flat. "I can assure you that she and I will no longer be friends after this."

With a furious growl I seized the man by the collar, slamming him against the wall. "If she lost her temper with you, that means she cares, dammit! Mithros, for a powerful sorcerer and supposedly smart scholar, you sure are stupid!" Letting go, I watched as the somewhat startled sorcerer stumbled before regaining his balance.

Thom shook his head slowly, looking dazed. I turned away, not caring whether he was okay or not. "A word of advice Lord Thom." My voice rose clear and flat through the corridor. "When she comes back for you, don't run from her summons. Or I swear by Mithros that you'll answer to my sword – regardless of whether or not you can duel."

I had put some distance between him and me when he spoke. "Why do you care about this so much?" His voice chased me down the corridor. "She was always more yours than mine."

I laughed, then and there. "You really are stupid," I said flatly, not bothering to turn back. "She's yours too." _Even if she doesn't know it yet._ "She's Gary's, and Jon's and Raoul's, and Alanna's, and mine. But she's yours too. And when she remembers that, when she comes back for you, you better answer to her. Because you may get a second chance, but you sure as hell won't get a third."

"Why do you care about whether or not I get another chance?"

I finally turned back to face the idiot. "Because, Thom, she will need you one day. She will need you, because nobody else will do. And you need to be there for her, not just for the sake of her, but for yourself as well."

I turned, striding away down the hall again. "You have to back to her. You must." My words spilled unbidden from my mouth, flowing back to the Master of the Mithran Light. "Otherwise everything will be ruined."

_What did I mean by everything? Only Willow? Her life? Or did I mean more - the palace, her friends and family. Maybe I meant the whole kingdom?_

Only one thing I was certain of as I walked down the hall, back to Willow and back to her grief: _I did not know, and I sure as hell did not want to find out._

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><p><strong>And there you have it. Personally, I'm disappointed that it had to end on such a depressing note, but that's how I decided it was to be finished. Oh well. Life isn't perfect.<strong>

**Thus the conclusion of Willow: The Sapling. No doubt you'll be pleased to know that I've actually started on the final installment of this series, so looking forward to that!**

**I leave you readers and/or subscribers with thanks and love for all you have done for me and Willow, and for letting her story be told. May Mithros and the Goddess bless each and every one of you.**

**With boundless amounts of love, gratitude, and all things bright and beautiful,**

**~ MagicalLeaves**


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